Have We Met Before?
by Florencia7
Summary: Post AWE. Elizabeth is determined to be loyal & wait for Will,but she loses her memory in an accident. Luckily,a certain pirate captain comes to the rescue,but will he tell her the truth about the past,or rather attempt to win her heart as a stranger? JE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hi! This is my second story & the idea just came to me on my way back from the movie theater... It would be wonderful if you could read & tell me what you think :)

If you have not seen _At World's End_ yet, please note that this story contains some spoilers for the movie :)

If you have seen _AWE_ already, please note that I'm going to disregard the little scene after the credits ;)

**Summary:** Post _AWE_. Elizabeth is determined to be loyal & wait for Will but she loses her memory in an accident. Luckily, a certain pirate captain comes to the rescue, but will he tell her the truth about the past or rather attempt to win her heart as a stranger? **Jack/Elizabeth**

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Have We Met Before?**

**Chapter 1**

She could not see him, and it was real.

It was more real than he, because she felt it all the time. She could not feel him, but she could feel his absence. As if the absence could be felt. But she felt that he was not with her, and it hurt, and the pain was real; more real than he.

Everything was more real than he.

Except her. She felt even less real than he, even though she was with herself all the time. But she was nonetheless alone, and she felt even more alone, when she was thinking about him.

His not-being was everywhere. Every day lacked him. Every place lacked him. He was constantly, irretrievably missing.

He was gone for the next ten years. Nine years, six months, and twenty eight days, to be precise. It was important to be precise right now. It was all that was left – the countdown. She had wrtten down all the remaining days, and each day she would have crossed one day out, feeling closer - feeling closer to him with each day that would have gone away.

Soon, it stopped making her feel better. She stopped counting. It was of no use. It was tiring. It was pointless, and it did not change anything.

She could not see him, and it was all that mattered, and it was all that was real.

Elizabeth had settled down in a small village near Port Royal. She could not have afforded keeping her father's house. In fact, there was little she could afford. She needed to work, not really knowing what she could or wanted to do. She did not plan on staying in the village forever, but she wanted some time to calm down, to organize her thoughts, to think about the future.

Somehow she felt that at sea she would feel the absence of both her father and Will even more, and that was why she had given up all thoughts about the sea.

She did not regret her decision.

It was the sea that had taken it all. The sea had taken everything that had ever mattered to her. It had taken her parents, it had taken Will, it had claimed James Norrington, and... Yes, it had taken even Jack, in a way. It had carried him away, away from her, which was probably good, considering the role she had played in his life.

It occurred to her that they had never really spoken about what had happened back then on the _Black Pearl_. She had never had a chance to tell him that she _was_ sorry. She had never apologized to him, even though he had not been expecting it, probably. _Pirate_. Pirates do not apologize, do they?

She walked around the little house that she had bought. It consisted of three small rooms, and a kitchen. The house had small windows, and it was almost always dark inside. Late at night, she would lay in bed and think about her life which was passing by noiselessly. Sometimes she had the impression that she did not have a life at all, that she was just merely _being, _but the word was empty, and it lost its meaning before it had even ever managed to acquire it. Not long time ago she had been a little girl, who had known nothing about the world, and now, she felt old, and worn out, and she had seen many things that she would rather not have seen.

She felt as if a part of her life was missing. But she did not know which part it was. What it was supposed to look like, and how could she get it back? If getting it back was even possible.

* * *

Jack was sitting by the table in one of the crowded taverns on Tortuga, shaking his compass and muttering some unintelligible words under his breath. It had been five months since Barbossa had sailed away with the _Black Pearl. _The fact itself was annoying, even without mentioning that this unfortunate accident had happened for the _third_ time.

Jack looked up when Gibbs approached the table, carrying the rum. At least the rum was not gone this time.

"Do we finally have a heading, Jack?" Gibbs asked, glancing hopefully at the compass.

Jack shot him a grim look. "Answer me one question, mate," he began irritably. "How probable is it, that if I had a heading to find me ship, I'd be sitting here waiting for the rum to be brought by somebody whose regrettable negligence contributed to me losing said ship in the first place?"

"I take it as a no," Gibbs said cautiously after a moment of hesitation.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: **Thank you very much for all the reviews:)**

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC (which I'm sure you can tell, after having seen AWE...)

**Chapter 2**

How would it be to have a new life? Completely new, a white sheet of paper on which he could write whatever he wanted, but this time more carefully, more cautiously, more wisely, more deliberately... Or perhaps not. Perhaps he would follow his old paths, changing nothing.

But then again, there were few things he would change, if he was only given a chance.

Jack tossed and turned on the bed, in one of Tortuga's best inns. What would he change, then? _What would you change, mate? _Somehow he could not concentrate, and it annoyed him, almost as much as the fact that he could not sleep.

It was the third sleepless night in a row, and he was tired of his own musings. He was tired of thinking. He pulled a pillow from under his head, and pressed it to his face. Why he could not sleep?! He threw the pillow on the floor, and sat up in the bed, resting his head against the wall behind him.

The things he would have changed if he could included: 1) kicking his father's shin for telling him (he was twelve years old at that time), that... Well, actually he could not remember what it was that his father had told him. But never mind. If he could change that, he would not have kicked him no matter what it was that he had said. 2) giving up the headings to Isla de Muerta to Barbossa. Right. Certainly this. 3) (if somehow he would have given said headings after all, and the story would have proceeded as before) drinking too much rum on that little island...

Jack stared at the dark window in the room.

Yes. And instead he would have just pulled her towards him, and kissed her until she would have gone insane...

It was probable, however, that she would have slapped him long before going insane... Yes, and then...

Why on earth he was thinking about _her_?! He threw himself on the bed, and closed his eyes, determined to fall asleep, pulling the cover over his head. She had killed him; she had kissed him; she had rescued him; she had killed him; she had said he was a good man; she had married the whelp; she had kissed him; she had killed him... Jack threw the cover on the floor.

Now... if he could meet her again, but meet her again _and_ for the first time _simultaneously... _Would he have done something differently? And what would he actually do? What would he say?

_Not possible,_ he muttered.

_Not probable_, he thought, eventually falling asleep.

* * *

Elizabeth sat in the armchair, staring at the chest. Everytime she looked at it, she felt lonely and guilty. Lonely because she was, in fact, alone; and guilty because she felt lonely.

She vaguely imagined that she was not supposed to feel that way. The chest was ought to make her feel better. That was why she had not buried it somewhere far away, but decided to keep it safe near her. The chest should be giving her strength. But somehow the longer she stared at the chest, the faster her strength was evaporating. She was afraid that one day it may disappear altogether. Along with her.

She needed a change. She needed a day off from her grim existence, from her waiting, from her missing him so much, from her loving him... She thought that maybe if she could get lost in a moment, in a temporary madness, in a crowd, among people, it would enliven her, it would help her recover, come back to life, begin to feel alive again. Just one day... And then she could come back here, and maybe even appreciate the peace and quite of her present life...

She locked the chest under the floor in a special hiding place, covered the part of the floor with a rug, changed to a more comfortable dress, took some money, and left the house abruptly.

_Just one day. I will be back in one day, Will._

* * *

"Jack! Jack! Wake up!" shouted Gibbs, rushing into the room.

Jack did not move.

"Jack!" Gibbs began shaking him inconsiderately.

"What's this?!" Jack suddenly woke up, accidentally hitting Gibbs on the forehead with his elbow.

"Oi," hissed Gibbs, rubbing his forehead.

"What are you doing?" asked Jack irritably.

"The _Black Pearl_," gasped Gibbs. "The _Pearl_'s here."

"No, she is not," countered Jack resolutely, taking a quick look around, looking at Gibbs suspiciously, as if Gibbs was trying to deceive him.

Gibbs stared at him in confusion for a moment, and then waived his hand dismissively.

"In the docks! Jack! The _Pearl!_ I saw it!" he continued passionately.

"How much did ye drink yesterday, aye?" asked Jack knitting his eyebrows, and reluctantly getting off the bed.

"No, Jack," shook his head Gibbs, slightly hurt. "I'm serious."

"I know ye are," agreed Jack, putting his boots on. "That's what worries me."

"No," Gibbs was getting nervous. "I really saw the _Pearl_, because the _Pearl_ is here," he did not really know how to convey the message more clearly. "She just sailed in. I saw her."

"Very well," said Jack, taking his coat, and his hat. "Let's go, then. But if instead of the _Pearl_ there will be no _Pearl_, then instead of ye there'll be no ye anymore as well. Savvy?"

Jack walked out of the room, followed by Gibbs, who rather disliked the meaning of Jack's last sentence, as soon as it reached him half-way down the stairs.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: **My dear reviewers: thank you for your reviews!**

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 3**

To Jack's visible surprise, and well-concealed exhilaration, the _Black Pearl_ was indeed docked in Tortuga. Walking down the pier, Jack and Gibbs came across no one else but Barbossa, followed by Pintel and Ragetti, who at the sight of Jack began to look rather sheepish, shooting him most innocent looks possible.

"A reception committee," observed Barbossa with a wide smile. "How thoughtful of ye."

"Welcome to Tortuga," smiled mockingly Jack, narrowing his eyes. "How was yer journey? If it's not too blunt a question."

"No, it's not," said Barbossa reassuringly. "Quite well, thank ye, Jack."

"An' one would think that one cannot have a pleasant journey on a stolen ship," observed Jack, turning to Gibbs, as if he was the actual addressee of this comment.

Gibbs smiled hesitantly.

"A borrowed ship," corrected Barbossa with an artificially friendly grin.

"Oh," Jack turned to him, simultaneously shooting a cold look at Pintel, and Ragetti."That's interesting. And whom did ye borrow it from, I wonder?" asked Jack, with a sincere interest in his voice.

Barbossa laughed briefly.

"Him," he said pointing a finger at Gibbs.

Jack, Pintel, and Ragetti looked at Gibbs in astonishment. Gibbs smiled, and then upon realizing why they were actually looking at him, exclaimed indignantly:

"That's not true!"

"I didn't mean _directly,"_ cut in Barbossa. "I asked him, but he wasn't sober enough to answer, so I took the lack of answer for a permission," he said with a smirk, quite content with his own explanation.

"Oh, I see," replied Jack with a forced smile. "An' what brings ye back, if it ain't a secret?"

"Longing," answered Barbossa in a tone of voice that suggested that the answer to this question should be obvious.

"Oh!" exclaimed Jack, as if deeply moved by that statement. "And I thought...", he started after a pause, "that ye came back, because ye had inescapably noticed an inconvenient and inextricable incompleteness of yer inexpressibly indispensable map?"

Barbossa wrinkled his forehead, and after a moment of silence began laughing, and then everybody else began laughing as well.

"I can't imagine what on earth could make ye formulate such a suspicion, Jack," said Barbossa when the laughter finally ceased.

* * *

Elizabeth walked into a dimly lit tavern in Tortuga, sat by a small table in the corner, and ordered something that she could not even drink. It tasted awful, and it smelled even worse.

She sighed, trying to figure out why she came here in the first place. She could go anywhere she wanted. There were many wonderful places: equally noisy, joyous, crowded, and colorful, but not necessarily that obnoxious and odd like Tortuga. Yet, she chose Tortuga for her one-day-journey.

Or rather three-day... She would not manage to be back in one day. She was too far away from home, that is... her house. Somehow, she did not take the distance into consideration...

Tortuga. She closed her eyes. It was a lie. It was a lie that she did not know why from all the places in the Caribbean she chose to spend her one – alright: three-day break on this island.

She rested her head against the back of her chair, and watched the people in the tavern. They did not care. About anything. And they were free. They had freedom she will never have. Now she was chained at last. _Chained_. She cringed. Chained to that place where she lived now, to that place where the chest was... She was chained to waiting.

Waiting. She should be waiting for Will in her house.

What was she waiting for here and now, then?

_He might be thousands of miles away. In the middle of the ocean. Or in Singapore. Or in Africa. Anywhere. Anywhere else. _

But did it matter? She just came here to have a change of landscape for awhile...

She bit her lower lip, angry with herself. A lie again. She did not give a damn about the landscape, or about people, or noise, or anything else. She just wanted to see him. Just once. Just this once. Just once more.

To say she was sorry.

_Stop lying, Elizabeth_. Of course she was sorry, and she wanted to tell him she has always been sorry. But it was not why she was here. She was here, because she wanted to see him. Subconsciously, desperately, purposelessly, urgently... Just see him, look into his fathomless eyes, those eyes which always could see through her, those eyes in which she could always see herself, those eyes which knew her, knew who she was, even in those rare moments when she herself did not really know who she was.

* * *

"I've a proposition for ye, Jack," said Barbossa, taking a swig of rum.

The tavern was rather dark, and they sat by a large table, only he and Jack, while Pintel and Ragetti were assigned a task of supplying food on the Pearl, and Jack sent Gibbs to make sure ("if ye're _sober enough_ this time") that the ship will not mysteriously sail off again, steered by some yet another self-named captain.

Jack was leisurely drinking his rum, looking rather bored, or at least doing his best to look bored. He could tell Barbossa was up to something, and right now he did not feel like deciphering what it was. He felt strangely tired.

"Let me guess," said Jack, smirking. "Ye want to be me first mate again. That's a very tempting proposition, but ye know, there's Gibbs, who has over ye this one insignificant advantage of not trying to kill me in the past."

"Jack," Barbossa waived his hand with a grin. "Listen-"

But Jack did not listen. He just noticed something utterly strange. He blinked, and squinted his eyes, trying to see through the darkened room. A hallucination? Strange. Very strange, but he could swear that he has just seen _her_... walking out of the tavern... What would she... A hallucination, then. Or maybe not. Or yes. Or not. Or yes. Or not.

"And what d'ye think, Jack?" asked Barbossa, apparently having finished stating his proposition. He looked at Jack questioningly.

Jack looked at him blankly, as if he was seeing him for the first time.

"I'll be back," he told him hurriedly, staggered to his feet, and rushed through the tavern heading for the door.

Barbossa rolled his eyes, and followed him with his gaze, stupefied.

"Should've left him in the Locker," he muttered irritably, biting into an apple.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: **Thank you very much for all the reviews:)**

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 4**

Jack ran out of the tavern, and anxiously looked around. It could not be just a hallucination, an illusion... could it? He would have recognized her anywhere, anytime; always. Of course, it was highly unlikely that she would be here... Why should she be here? Why would she come...

_It would have never worked out between us. _Her last words. And not even exactly hers, as a matter of fact. He said it first. Why did he say it? He would not have said it again... Would she?...

Jack was walking around, glancing at people's faces, not really expecting to find the face he was looking for, but still looking, still searching... He was so sure he had seen her. It was her. He could draw her figure from memory. He could close his eyes and see her face so vivid that it almost frightened him at times. It has been almost half a year... And she was married. Yet, she was not really married. Suddenly, he began to wonder where she was and what was she doing. Alone. For she was alone. Loneliness was a good cause for coming to Tortuga, after all...

And if it was not Elizabeth? It was dark... It might have been his imagination playing tricks on him. His imagination was doing this quite often; lately...

And then, when he almost acquiesced at last to the conviction that what he had seen was only illusory – he saw her. She was standing on the other side of the road, looking around in confusion, in hesitation, as if she was wondering where should she go, or what should she do. Her eyes swept over him casually, and then very rapidly came back, and locked with his in astonishment.

Although she was standing fairly far away from him, he was sure that a smile flitted across her face.

So it was her. It was her after all. Jack gazed at Elizabeth, unable to move, feeling suddenly alienated from the reality, and overwhelmed by a strange feeling that he preferred to leave unnamed.

He smiled weakly, so weakly that he thought she could not have even noticed it. But she did notice. And she smiled back. She smiled back this smile that he missed; this smile that haunted him sometimes when he could not sleep; the smile that actually caused him not to sleep. Elizabeth's smile. Her smile. Lizzie's smile.

She smiled, hardly believing her eyes. Although she did come here to see him, she found herself virtually unprepared for seeing him. She began crossing the road, trying to quieten her thoughts, and her racing heart. It stunned her, how strong an impression the sight of him made upon her. She stopped hearing the world around her. She stopped seeing the world. She just saw his silhouette, which was becoming clearer and clearer with each step she took towards him.

She had an unaccountable feeling of having found something that she had lost. She did not know what it was, but she felt as if she was getting it back now, somehow.

She saw him smiling, and starting to walk towards her as well, and then suddenly, his facial expression changed, his smile faded, and his eyes widened in dismay. He shouted something to her, but she did not hear him. The only thing she could hear right now was her own heartbeat, and a strange noise made by her own disorganized thoughts, rushing through her mind. He ran to her. But it all was happening within a second, and before she managed to understand what was happening, and before Jack reached her, she felt a dull pain in her side, and something knocked her down.

Yet, she caught a glimpse of a carriage rushing past her, of Jack finally reaching her her, holding her, repeating her name over and over again.

She did not actually feel pain, just something strange was taking over her, something she could not fight. The images before her eyes were falling apart, Jack's face was dissolving in the air.

She squeezed his hand, and mumbled something, not even knowing herself what she was saying exactly, but it was as if the words just flew straight from her mind, her heart. A thought flashed across her mind that perhaps she was dying. She did not know... She was not sure... She just felt weak, and helpless, and strangely exhausted, as if she was falling asleep, and could not stop falling...

"I wish we have met before...," was what she managed to whisper.

And then the world went blank.

* * *

She was breathing. She was breathing even though she has lost consciousness. Jack stood up, gathering her in his arms, making sure her head was resting against his shoulder. She was bleeding, although the gash on her head was not very deep. But it worried him that she had fainted.

He ran into the nearest building, asking for help. Somebody went for a doctor, somebody brought hot water, and towels. The building happened to be a small inn, and Elizabeth was put in one of the rooms.

Jack laid her carefully on the bed, and cleansing the gash kept talking to her, clapping her cheeks gently, and muttering some words under his breath, trying to wake her up. He knew that it was not a good sign, that she was unconscious. Physically, her head injury did not look alarming. But mentally...

"Come on, Lizzie, come on, open yer eyes, luv."

Jack was interrupted, when a doctor came at last.

"What's happened?" he asked, approaching quickly.

"She was knocked down by a carriage," said Jack in a hollow tone of voice, his forehead wrinkled, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth. "She was conscious a moment after yet, but then-" he trailed off, seeing that the doctor sighed after a brief examination. "What is it?" he asked feeling suddenly very cold.

"The gash is shallow," said the doctor. "The pulse is steady, she's breathing... Well..."

"Well what?" asked Jack irritably, not satisfied with the diagnosis. He knew that much himself.

"Well, we need to wait," said the man calmly.

"Wait for what?!" Jack went over to the bed, and squatted down beside it, looking at Elizabeth hesitantly. She looked calm and peaceful, as if she was merely ordinarily asleep.

"For her to wake up," said the doctor heading for the door.

Jack stared at him in bewilderment.

"That's it?" he asked after a pause.

"I'm afraid there's nothing more to be done at the moment."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: **To my dear reviewers: thank you for your reviews!!** They make me very happy:)

Spoiler: Oh.

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 5**

After waiting for over two hours for Jack to return, Barbossa jumped up in his chair, suddenly hit by the realization of what had _really_ happened. Muttering under his breath the most inappropriate words, he hastily left the tavern, and walked to the docks as fast as he could. In his mind he was scolding himself for his own unforgivable stupidity. He should have expected this scheming idiot to do something like this, and yet he was sitting for two hours in a bloody tavern, drinking bloody rum, eating bloody apples, while this monkey man was sailing off with _his_ ship!...

Once he reached the docks, Barbossa stopped abruptly, puzzled. He blinked, narrowed his eyes, and stared for a longer moment at the sight before him.

The _Black Pearl _was calmly floating on the blue Caribbean water, anchored right where he left her.

_What is he up to this time?!_ thought Barbossa, for some reason almost annoyed that the _Pearl _was not gone...

* * *

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, and looked at Elizabeth intently. Why could not she just wake up...

He stroked her hair gently, only half-consciously realizing that he had never really had the opportunity to do this before. Her hair was brown, light brown; gold, in a way. Yes, gold. Gold like... gold. He grimaced at the questionable brilliance of his comparison.

...And very soft. He lifted his hand.

Would she be angry at him for doing this?... He ran his hand across her face. She was rather pale, although he felt the warmth of her skin under his fingertips.

He drew back his hand with a sigh. What was he doing?! He looked away. Then he looked back at her. She did not change. Or did she? He did not have all that many memories of her, after all.

Port Royal (_you're despicable..._). The island (_a pirate I've read about..._). The _Dauntless_ (_a smart_ _man..._). Tortuga (_are you telling the truth?_). Isla Cruces (_you've lied to me...)_...

She cringed in her sleep. Jack shuddered. It seemed that on the whole she had not a dramatically favorable opinion of him... Therefore, he could not make it much worse, could he?

He drew his hand across her forehead, her cheeks, her chin. He brushed his fingertips against her lips.

The _Black Pearl_ (_A good man..._)...

He took his hand away with irritation, stood up, then sat down again, propping his head with his hands.

She had left him. And then she had come back. He had left her too. And he had come back as well. So they were square, really. Except that he had not chained her to the mast, before he had left.

Jack saw everything that had happened in flashing images. They were all confusingly mingled together. Multi-dimensional, complicated, misleading, bitter-sweet memories.

He had the impression that there was something wrong with every situation that had taken place. He did not know exactly what it was, but somehow he could feel that there was hardly ever anything that had gone quite according to plan, quite according to what he had wanted. He remembered his words, and they appeared awkward, slightly missing the point. Always slightly missing the point, as if he could never really put his thoughts into spoken words.

Had he ever wanted to put his thoughts into words? Not really. There... So he was capable of _admitting_ something, after all. Good. He just admitted he was an intentional liar.

Although he did not really like the word "liar". It had negative connotations, and it sounded harsh. Besides, he was not a liar. He was just telling the right truth. Maybe it was not the truth, but it was right nevertheless.

The truth was circumscribed. Was it not? It was circumscribed by circumstances, and sometimes to circumstantiate the truth it was necessary to circumvent, to circumnavigate (as it were) it, in a way...

Elizabeth gasped softly. Jack brushed a strand of her hair away from her face. He could swear that he saw a ghost of a smile flickering across her face.

The truth was he had missed her. He had missed her like hell, and he would have given decidedly more than he should have been willing to give for the chance to turn back time. And not only slightly. Not only to add something, to change some looks, to take back some words, to smile on that day, and not to smirk on another. He would have turned it back all the way to that day in Port Royal, when she had been drowning.

Still, what else could he have done, then? But if they would have met in different circumstances...

He fought the urge to kiss her. It would not be fair. She would not know...

Then again what _was_ fair? Was it fair that she had met him too late? That there was already somebody else on her mind when they had met? Was this chronology accidental or predestined? And if it was predestined, who had predestined it, and was it fair that he did it? And if it was accidental, was it fair that their lives should be governed by accidents?

_It would have never worked out between us. _It was not true. _It was not true, Lizzie. It might. It really might. Only if..._

"Where am I?"

Jack jumped at the unexpected sound, too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice that Elizabeth had begun waking up, and now she was already fully awake, and she was sitting upright in the bed, her eyes wide-open, glistening, her cheeks not so pale anymore, her lips slightly parted.

She shot Jack a look that he could define as subtly quizzical, to say the least.

"Morning, luv," said Jack hesitantly. "Or rather evening," he corrected himself with a half-smirk.

Elizabeth stared at him in silence. She briefly looked around the room, and then again fixed her eyes on the strangely looking man before her.

_Why is he sitting on the bed with me?!_

"How do you feel, luv?" asked Jack in a low tone of voice, considering her lack of responsiveness as a result of the shock.

_Why is he calling me "love"?!_

"You had an accident," started Jack, hinting.

Elizabeth kept silent.

"You were run over by a carriage, and you were unconscious for several hours," Jack paused, beginning to feel rather awkward. There was something strange in her eyes. Fear? Anger? Confusion? He did not know. Certainly, she was not feeling very well yet.

"May I ask you one question?" she spoke at last in a barely audible whisper.

"Sure, darling," grinned Jack, glad that she spoke again.

_Darling?!_

She hesitated for a moment yet, and looked at him curiously for a longer while, before she finally asked him the worst question that one could possibly ask of Captain Jack Sparrow:

"Who are you?"

Jack's eyes flew wide open, and he blinked. He stared at Elizabeth for a considerable amount of time, waiting for her to start smiling, laughing, or at least say something else yet, but she just kept looking at him steadily, apparently waiting patiently for the answer to her question.

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," said Jack finally, in a rather faltering voice.

"Oh," acknowledged Elizabeth flatly.

"Oh," echoed Jack mechanically, blinking.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 6**

_Is she taking me in...?..._

Jack looked at Elizabeth suspiciously. But not as much suspiciously as she looked at him. They looked at each other in silence for a strangely long time, each of them reluctant to speak first.

Elizabeth felt drowsy, but she tried to suppress this feeling, wishing to find out where she was and what was happening. The room looked unfamiliar. And this strange man... He had the most peculiar appearance... He had shiny, jingling objects tied on his hair (or rather his dreadlocks...), red bandana, slightly threadbare coat, and a white shirt, that was clearly missing some buttons.

There was something frightening about him, yet, something that was making her unwilling to look away. So maybe there was nothing really frightening about him, after all. Maybe it was just the fact, that she has never seen him before...

It crossed her mind that he looked at her with some kind of distrust. Or irritation. Or was it rather worry... Anxiety? What was he doing here, anyway? Did he know her? Has she done something wrong? Has _he _done something wrong?

And his eyes. Black-rimmed, mysterious, glimmering eyes... Apart from everything else... These eyes were not frightening. Oddly, looking into his eyes comforted her. There was peace in his eyes. Inexplicable safety. Something familiar, yet something wild.

Should she ask him some questions? Before she decided to speak, however, he spoke first:

"So... ye don't know who I am, luv?" Asked Jack hesitantly, looking at her maybe too intensely, trying to decipher her intentions. If there were any.

"You are Captain Jack Sparrow," she answered quietly. "Isn't that what you just told me?"

Jack cleared his throat.

"Yes. That's right. I told you." Jack wrinkled his forehead, and leaned slightly closer toward Elizabeth. She instinctively tilted her head back, noticing at the same time that his left hand was almost touching her hands, which were resting on the cover, so she drew them slightly closer to herself, but she was careful not to do this too ostentatiously.

She looked up at Jack, and met his eyes, and realized that he was picking up on everything she was doing anyway. She blushed, although not really knowing why.

Jack paled. And he knew why.

_She is not taking me in._

"And who are _you_?" He asked, just in case, just as a test. Although, he did not really know what that test might prove.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. Suddenly, she turned very pale as well. The question sent shivers up her spine. Her breath quickened.

Jack looked at her with concern. He thought about taking her hands in his, but remembering her drawing her hands back...

It suddenly reached her. The realization. The reason for feeling drowsy. Now she knew what was wrong. She felt that something was wrong, only she did not know what it was. And now she knew. Now it struck her, it hit her with full force. She was terrified. She looked around frustratedly.

Jack did not know what to do. Seeing all the possible emotions flashing across her face, glittering in her eyes, he wanted to help her somehow, but he did not know exactly what was going on, and what could he do. He did not know what she was going through right now, although he could tell from the look of terror that appeared in her eyes, that it was nothing pleasant. And nothing good.

She looked at him in dismay, and he saw tears in her eyes. Very quietly, in a tearful, cracking tone of voice, she said:

"I don't know." And it sounded as if she herself could not believe in what she was saying. "I don't know", she repeated, shaking her head. "I don't know."

Forgetting about his earlier restraints, Jack took her hands into his, and tried to calm her down.

"It's all right", he said reassuringly.

"I don't know," she clenched her hands around his, and went on repeating the same phrase over and over again, tears streaming down her cheeks. With every repetition her voice grew more and more anxious, and desperate. "I don't know. I don't know! I don't know!"

"Hush. Shhh," Jack stroked her hair gently. "You're Elizabeth," he said in an effort to calm her down, thinking that the name will give her some peace, grant her a place in the world, making her feel better.

She became quiet, and looked at him expectantly.

He was about to say: you are Elizabeth Swann. And then suddenly, he realized that she was not. He did not know whether it was rather this realization, some strange twinge of pain, of resentment, of... jealousy?... even maybe, or rather just compassion. Just the fear of the unavoidable necessity to tell her about everything that had happened. And what was there to tell her? That everybody was dead? That everybody was gone?

She looked at him, waiting, holding on to his hands. What was she waiting for? She did not know. Maybe she was waiting for him to explain... Explain what?

"Elizabeth?" She asked softly, not crying anymore, although the last tears were still streaming down her face.

"Yes," replied Jack, still struggling with himself.

He should tell her her name. Her full name. It was her life. What right did he have to keep it secret from her? He had no right. He had no rights to her. Why was he even considering this...

"How do you know?" She whispered. The tears rolled down her chin, and fell on Jack's hands holding hers. "Do you know me?"

And then he remembered. He remembered his thoughts about meeting her again. Again _and _for the first time _simultaneously. _And here it was. His wish came true. Here they were. Again. And not again.

Anew.

"You had said your name before you lost consciousness," said Jack very slowly, carefully, afraid that his own voice may betray him. It was almost as if it was not him who said it. For a moment, he thought that her name would trigger her memory, and she will remember... and it will be over...

"Elizabeth," she repeated in a barely audible whisper.

She looked away, as if thinking about it for a moment.

"So you don't know me?" She asked, looking back at Jack.

Jack leaned towards her, and wiped the tears from her face and her eyes with the back of his hand.

She did not object. She just looked at him, waiting.

"I know you now," he said with a faint smile. He had sense of guilt. Yet, the sense was frighteningly intoxicating. No, not the sense of guilt. The sense of being with her alone in the world. The feeling that when she was looking at him she was only thinking about him. There were no reasons, no demands, no wishes, no hidden motivations. Just her eyes looking into his.

"But... before...?" She asked, feeling a strange regret when he took his hand away from her face.

Maybe he had no right. Maybe it was wrong. Maybe it was even certainly wrong. But her present condition was so... fragile. It was not the time for making her feel even worse. Besides, he had no happy news for her, therefore he could not offer her the truth, because the truth was bleak and grim. And she did not feel well enough to take it, he thought.

And he did not feel well enough to tell her either. Or perhaps... he simply did not _want_ to tell her. Not now. Not yet.

He would tell her later. Tomorrow, maybe. Yes. Tomorrow.

He smiled at her, and she found herself smiling back, although she was not sure why there was something so quizzical in his eyes right now.

He reached for her hand. Elizabeth shivered, not really knowing why she rather liked the feeling of his hands on hers.

"There is no before." He whispered, looking at her with the enchanting intensity.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 7**

"An' ye don't know where he is, aye?" Asked Barbossa in an angry tone of voice.

"How can I know?" Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "Ye saw 'im last. Ye should know where he is."

Barbossa rolled his eyes, and slumped heavily into a chair.

"Maybe 'e got lost?" Offered timidly Ragetti, receiving an impatient look from almost everybody present in the _Black Pearl_'s mess at the moment.

"He must've had something important to do," observed Gibbs matter-of-factly, taking a swig of rum.

"He better had," snapped Barbossa under his breath.

"Or he could've had an accident...," continued Ragetti, following his own line of reasoning, his eye(s) fixed on the floor.

"I'm sure he'll be back soon," said Gibbs after a pause.

Barbossa sighed grimly.

"...'e could've been run over by a horse, and...," Ragetti went on, oblivious to the fact that nobody seemed to be paying attention to what he was saying.

"I think it's high time to eat, I'm hungry," said Pintel wrinkling his forehead.

"Aye. I'm into this," agreed Gibbs, taking a quick look around.

"...an' then he could've lost his memory an' now 'e ain't know how to get back to the _Pearl_!..." Concluded Ragetti in a solemn tone of voice, and looked up, quite surprised by the fact that Barbossa was aiming his pistol at him.

"Either ye stop talkin' nonsense or I'll release yer second eye from its brainless prison," said Barbossa in a very calm tone of voice.

"He stopped already," observed Pintel with an artificial smile.

"Good," muttered Barbossa putting his pistol away.

* * *

_Elizabeth. _The word was strange. It was her name, apparently. Yet, it was meaningless. It was just a word, and not even a particularly beautiful or interesting one. It carried no meaning. There was nothing in it, nothing behind it, nothing bef-. _There is no before._ That was what he had told her, before he left. He had said he will be back in an hour, he just had to do something... She did not protest, although she did not know why he was going to be back. It was rather late. It was late in the evening. Was he going to stay overnight in this room with her?! 

Yet, she found herself waiting for him. Waiting for him impatiently. He was, in a way, the only part of the world that she knew right now. The only person she remembered...

Elizabeth pressed her face against the pillow, and suddenly burst out crying. How was it possible that she did not remember anything? Anything! Even her own name did not mean anything to her. As if it was not her name... But it was her name. _He _had said that it was her name. So it must have been true...

She was shuddering, swallowing back her tears, feeling so lonely, so empty, so unreal. Where did she live? Did she have a family? Was anybody waiting for her? Looking for her? Worrying about her?

And what was she like? Who was she? Elizabeth. What did it mean to be Elizabeth? Was it good or bad to be Elizabeth?

She was frightened not remembering anything. She was scared that she had no memories. It was as if she did not exist.

The tears dripped down her cheeks, and onto the pillow. She looked at the window. The sky was as black, and as starless as her memory. She shivered, as a grim thought flashed across her mind:

_And what if there was nothing worth remembering?_

* * *

"Evenin' gents," said Jack in the most casual tone ever, walking gracefully into the mess. 

Everybody looked at him, and the room suddenly grew very quiet. Barbossa pushed his plate away, and stood up.

"And I'd like t' know to whom we owe thanks for yer kind appearance?" Sneered Barbossa.

Jack went over to where the rum was, picked up one bottle, examined it closely, put it away, and took a different one.

"What was that, mate?" He asked, turning towards Barbossa, and the rest of the crew.

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Haven't ye forget about something?" He inquired irritably.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, and chuckled, shooting Jack a now-ye-have-to-deal-with-him-alone look.

Jack fell into a pensive mood. "No," he announced happily after a while, and opened his bottle of rum.

"And I think ye have," snapped Barbossa, finally losing his temper. "Where were ye?! Did ye think I was goin' to wait there forever?! Ye wanted to make a fool of me? Ye've got a very bad memory then, 'cause as ye might remember I ain't a kind of person to-," he stopped in mid-sentence, completely astonished. "What are ye doin' _now_?"

Jack looked around the room blankly, then turned to Barbossa, and gave him the bottle of rum he had been drinking.

"Ye can finish this if ye want. I have something to do yet, but I have every intention to be back soon, or... later than that, but back, nevertheless," and with this (and some food and two bottles of rum), Jack walked out of the mess.

Gibbs chuckled, more amused by the look on Barbossa's face than by Jack's behaviour. The members of the crew looked at each other in confusion.

"It's good that he didn't have any accident, though," observed Ragetti, breaking the silence.

"Stop talkin' nonsense!" Shouted at him ostentatiously Pintel. "Right?" He added timidly, glancing at Barbossa.

* * *

Jack knocked on the door, but received no answer. He knocked again, and then opened the door, and slowly came in. 

The room was almost completely dark, except for the faint light emitted by a small lamp on the table. Elizabeth was asleep.

Jack put the food he brought on the cabinet, and crept towards the bed noiselessly. When he moved closer, he saw the traces of tears on her face. He sat on the edge of the bed, and gazed at her absent-mindedly.

He should have told her. She had been crying because he had not told her. He was going to tell her tomorrow... He will tell her tomorrow. Yes, certainly. As a matter of fact, if she, by any chance, would wake up right now, he was going to tell her everything immediately.

He stroked her hair gently, thinking why exactly he was doing this... Why he was stroking her hair... Why he was not telling her the truth... _The so called truth, _he corrected himself quickly. What was he going to achieve by doing this? It seemed senseless now. He almost regretted that he had not told her.

"You're here," said Elizabeth drowsily, once again catching his off guard by her sudden awakening.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. Go back to sleep," muttered Jack confusedly.

_Tell her._

Elizabeth pushed herself up on her elbows, and sat up in bed.

"Are you going to sit here all night, then?" She asked sceptically.

_Tell her right now._

"Yes, you're right," he said, suddenly struck by an idea. "I should go. I'm sorry. I'll come tomorrow."

_I can't tell her now, because I'm leaving now, _he thought to himself not unreasonably, almost eagerly getting to his feet.

He almost fell over, when he heard her calling him:

"Jack."

He looked at her hesitantly. Her eyes were glimmering in the darkened room. He was not sure whether it was the tears in her eyes that glimmered still, or rather it was some kind of emotion, alertness, perhaps, or yet something else. She looked exhausted; she must have been tired from crying. He felt a twinge of guilt - again, and he knew what he should say. He knew exactly what it was that he had to tell her. The words were effortlessly forming themselves in his mind, so clear that he could almost hear them in his ears. He felt them coming real, materializing, emerging from his mind; inevitably. He opened his mouth to speak, only to discover that the words were gone.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" He managed to ask after a while, realizing, almost against his will, that it was in fact all that he was capable of saying at the moment.

"Don't go," she said quietly, almost pleadingly.

Jack automatically slumped back onto where he was sitting before, and looked at her in silence. Without a further word, or a smile, she turned away from him, leaned her head against the pillow, and closed her eyes. She was fast asleep within seconds.

_Makes little sense telling her now. I think._


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: **Thank you very much for all the amazing reviews!** :)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 8**

Elizabeth woke up terrified, breathing heavily. She sat up in bed abruptly, and looked around the room frustratedly. She tried to concentrate, in order to remember what she had been dreaming of. She had had a dream. And this dream was a nightmare. She did not remember it very well, although she knew that it was too abstract and too convoluted to enable her to make much sense out of it anyway.

Still, she could recall some images from the dream: she was standing in the fog. The fog was grey and thick, and she could not see anything, although she could hear voices all around her. Then she felt a grip tightening around her wrist, and somebody began dragging her away. Despite the mist, and despite the fact that she did not know where she was, she had a feeling that she was being dragged in the _wrong_ direction...

She tried to break free from the grip, but to no avail. She looked down at her hand, expecting to see the hand of a person she was being dragged by, but there was no hand. Instead, there was only a gold bracelet, or rather a ring... She looked at it curiously for a moment, until she noticed that the bracelet was tightening mercilessly around her wrist. She tried to take it off, but she could not. The bracelet kept tightening, until her hand began to bleed. She screamed, feeling an enormous wave of pain overtaking her, and then... she woke up.

The sun was up already, and the sunlight was everywhere in the room.

_Where is he? _She thought suddenly, taking a quick look around, but there seemed to be nobody in the room. She felt a strange twinge of regret, but then told herself off for this. He must have gone away at last. Perhaps after she fell asleep. She could not seriously expect him to stay here all night!... Why would he? He certainly had his own life to worry about, and not some girl who could not even remember her own name.

Cautiously, she slipped out of bed. She stood up, and then her eyes flew wide open, when she saw Jack laying on the floor, fast asleep, with his face against the floor.

He was quite a sight, but she restrained herself from laughing. It was her fault, after all. He must have fallen asleep while sitting on the bed, and then he probably collapsed from the bed to the floor. She wondered briefly how it was possible that he did not wake up in the process?...

She squatted down next to him, and gently shook him by the shoulder. He muttered something she did not understand, and brushed her hand away, clearly having no intention to wake up.

Elizabeth sighed, and looked at him intently. Why was he doing this? Why was he taking care of her? Why had he come to watch her overnight? How about his family? Did he have a family? It was highly unlikely that he would stay with her throughout the night if he had a family.

This reminded her of something. She brought her hands to her eyes, and examined them closely. No. She did not have any ring around her finger. Not that it was an unambiguous proof of anything. But still...

She looked back at Jack. He was laying down with his cheek against the wooden floor, facing her. She brushed one of his dreadlocks away from his face. The trinket tied to it made a jingling noise, but he did not even move at the sound.

His eyes, which she liked so much, were closed, but his face appealed to her, nonetheless. There was something enchanting about his features. Something... beautiful. Hesitantly, she outstretched her hand, but drew it back very quickly. After a moment, she reached out again, and ran her hand across his face. He tossed, and she retracted immediately. She smiled, and sighed softly with relief seeing that he did not wake up. It would have been very embarrassing. How would she have explained that to him? She herself was not sure why she felt a strange urge to touch him.

Her legs began to hurt from squatting, so she sat down beside him on the floor. After several minutes of staring at him, she decided that what she was doing was ridiculous, so she stood up, and went back to bed.

Still, she felt awful on a comfortable, soft, warm bed, while he was laying on the hard, cold floor. She moved to the edge of the bed, and leaned down, so that her head was just few inches above his.

"Jack," she said in a low, but resolute tone of voice. "Jack," she repeated louder.

"Take the helm," he muttered with a sigh in his sleep.

_The helm?... Oh, yes. He mentioned he was a captain._

"Jack!" She exclaimed, shaking him by the shoulder. To her surprise, he finally opened his eyes.

Elizabeth smiled, but then, as she leaned to abruptly forward, she lost her balance, and fell down from the bed straight into his arms.

"I knew that sleeping on the floor has its advantages," said Jack with a grin.

Elizabeth blushed, and staggered to her feet as fast as she could.

"I'm sorry," she said under her breath, averting his eyes, nervously smoothing her white nightgown given to her by the wife of the inn's owner.

Jack looked at her pensively, with an absent smile. He was here, and she was here. An early morning. An ordinary day. And whatever she was thinking of right now, it was nothing that could possibly stand between them.

He wondered what was different about her. There was something that has changed, or rather something that disappeared along with her past. _Her past did not disappear_, he reminded himself sharply. (He was dangerously giving in to his self-made reality...)

Jack came closer to her, and propped her chin with his hand, forcing her to look him in the eye.

"How do you feel, Elizabeth?" He asked casually.

She looked at him wide-eyed, still little embarrassed, strangely serious, as if he had asked her some particularly profound question.

"Very good," she said slowly. _Something in his eyes... _"Better," she corrected herself hesitantly. _Something about his eyes..._ "I don't know..."

It occurred to her that it was perhaps not very appropriate for her to be standing in her nightgown in front of a man she barely knew. _His eyes... _She had a strange, transient feeling that she had seen his eyes before. _Of course I have seen them before_, she snapped to herself. _Yesterday._

Jack smiled to himself. He knew what was different. It was Lizzie. Just Lizzie. Without a facade, without a mask, without words and gestures meant to conceal her true emotions. She was just being herself, freed from the necessity to hide her thoughts, to reveal her feelings. She had no aims. She was the same girl she had always been, only without the burden to fit her own image of herself, to fulfill her own ideas about what her life should be like. She had no presumptions. She was not presupposing anything. She presumed nothing.

She had no memory.

She was free.

"I wondered," began Jack, still not letting go of her chin, but pretending that he was hardly noticing this fact. "Would you mind if I called you... Lizzie?"

She looked at him, baffled. "And why is that?" She asked curiously.

"Let's say it's... less formal", said Jack with a smile, which she learned to adore, and loathe at the same time already. She adored it because it was making her feel helpless, and she loathe it, because it was making her feel... very helpless. "And friends shouldn't be too formal with each other, should they?"

She looked away, as if considering it for a moment. _Lizzie... Elizabeth... Lizzie..._

Jack's smile slowly faded. He thought that perhaps he has gone too far. Actually, he had not even planned to ask her this question. It just came to him all of a sudden, and he asked it without much thinking. He let go of her chin, and suggested in a low tone of voice that she may consider the question as the one that has never been asked.

"No," she said with a small smile. "I actually think... I like it even better than "Elizabeth"."

Jack chuckled. "Really?" He asked, blinking.

Elizabeth nodded, and smiled.

Jack smiled back at her, but his mind was haunted by a sudden realization. Not only had he taken her _last_ name from her, but now he took her _first_ name away from her as well. _Well done, mate_, he snapped to himself sarcastically, a part of him very angry with himself at the moment. _Well done._ But only a part.

"What would you like to do today... _Lizzie_?" He asked, looking at her searchingly. He would have liked to know what exactly she was thinking of him. He had a feeling that she did like him. However... well... he could not seriously expect nothing more after just one day.

It occurred to him then, that he did not have any plan, really. His abstract musings concerning the things that he would have done differently now seemed well-nigh useless. The situation was very unique, different. And apparently he ought to be slightly different too... However, he did not know exactly what one was supposed to do with a girl, if said one wanted to behave as if he was not said one... for the time being, at least.

"I was actually thinking about taking a walk around the town to see if anybody happens to know me...," said Elizabeth with a sigh. "Maybe I live somewhere here?" She whispered rather than asked, glancing at Jack hesitantly, as if waiting for his opinion in the matter.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, thinking about this idea for a moment. He caught himself finding Elizabeth's little plan quite reasonable, and... very convenient. The chances for her being recognized in Tortuga were slim, if not none.

He kindly approved of her idea.

"Now," said Jack in a mysterious tone of voice. "We need to get you dressed."

"I believe I am dressed," said Elizabeth blankly, taking a quick, reassuring look over herself.

"I mean _really_ dressed," grinned Jack.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: **Thank you very much for all the reviews!** They make me indescribably happy:)

Disclaimer: Disney owns PotC. I think I own Elizabeth's amnesia...

**Chapter 9**

Jack felt rather gloomy.

Having ordered the clothes to be delivered to Elizabeth in the inn, he walked out of the dressmaker store, and directed his steps to the _Pearl_.

He was not doing the right thing. Not that he had ever been concerned with doing the right thing... Nevertheless, right now he felt that he was rather doing a very _non_-right thing.

He absent-mindedly walked along the streets in the direction of the sea. The sea was very quiet. Peaceful. He remembered the times when his peace of mind depended only on the peace of the sea. When the weather was his mood.

And now he felt gloomy, even though the weather was beautiful.

Although it was not as beautiful as Elizabeth...

Jack sighed, angry at himself. Was today not this glorious "tomorrow" when he had planned to tell her the truth about the past? Yes, it was. It certainly was. He should have done it the first thing in the morning.

Yes, he should have done it.

Yet, he did not do it.

He knew that if he changes today into another tomorrow, it will lead to nothing else but to yet another tomorrow, to the endless chain of tomorrows. And there will be no end to it; of it; because of it.

_Jack. _Her soft voice echoed in his head. She had called him back. She had let him stay. She had wanted him to stay. She looked so beautiful in her sleep. Her gold brown hair spread across the pillow, a peaceful, enchanting expression on her face, her delicate, soft lips, her body rising and falling in the rhythm of her breathing... He had been staring at her for a long time last night.

Then it dawned on him: how much sense did it make to tell her of the past, if she did not remember the past? (He repeated the sentence in his mind twice, to make sure that he had not missed anything.) Now. How clever was that? Because if she did not remember it, then even if he would tell her about the past, it would just sound to her like a story, some kind of legend, a tale, a second-hand recollection. And the only result of it would be her distancing herself from him. Treating him with limited trust, keeping a watchful eye on her own feelings toward him.

Not mentioning the problem of the initial selection of information... What should he tell her? What should he begin with? Tell her that she was a governor's daughter? (Your father is dead, by the way. And your mother...) That she had a husband? (Well, you know... he is supposed to stop by, in something like, let's say, nine years.) That she was a Pirate King? (No, I'm not making it up, darling.)

On the other hand, it would be at least honest. Telling her, that is. Telling her would be honest. Honesty. Hon-esty. Did it have something to do with honey? Funny how some words are similar to others. And some words are even dissimilar, and they are still similar... Or the other way around. Yes. Where was he? Ah, yes. Honey. Maybe he should buy some.

* * *

Elizabeth smiled receiving the box. She smiled even more when the second box was handed to her. Seeing the third box she raised her eyebrow. At the sight of the fourth one she asked, whether there was no mistake being made, somehow, accidentally. Taking the fifth package she began to feel rather embarrassed, especially that in the corner of her eye she saw the inn owner's wife watching the boxes being delivered to her room. And the woman was giggling, for some reason. 

Elizabeth happily slammed the door shut, after putting the last box on the cabinet. She leaned against the door, and sighed. Her eyes wandered disbelievingly around the room. Was he insane?

But it was of course very nice of him too. Elizabeth bit her lower lip, thinking._ I guess I should start opening all of these._

With this resolute attitude, she began unpacking the first of all the thirty-seven boxes.

* * *

"Jack!" Called Gibbs when he spotted Jack on deck, heading below. 

"Aye," Jack turned around unenthusiastically, still deep in thought.

"Barbossa is-," started Gibbs, but Jack cut him off.

"I know he _is._ Eerily lovely Tia Dalma brought him back to life, but never bothered taking him back to hell afterwards, aye," he snapped irritably.

"Aye," nodded Gibbs trying to figure out what was going on with Jack as of late. "D'ye happened to have any kind of... problem?" He asked hesitantly.

Jack glanced at him suspiciously.

"And where does this question come from, Master Gibbs?" He asked searchingly.

Gibbs blinked several times before answering. "Well... it just so seems that there's somethin' on yer mind, Capt'n."

"I'd rather worry about what's _not_ on me mind," muttered Jack knitting his eyebrows, and walked away, leaving Gibbs after their conversation as enlightened as always.

* * *

"My, my," said the inn owner's wife, looking around the room. 

She knocked on the door just when Elizabeth was almost done with unpacking everything that had been delivered.

There were at least ten dresses, some undergarments, petticoats, a dressing gown, a corset, girdles, shoes, ribbons, hairpins, hair-slides, a hairnet, and what not.

The woman walked around the room, taking a closer look at every item, every piece of clothing, touching the fabrics, and commenting on them.

Elizabeth would rather be alone at the moment. She wanted to refresh herself, and get dressed to be ready to go out when Jack comes. The woman was rather kind to Elizabeth so far, but there was something irritating about her as well, and she also did not like the way the woman looked at her with a constant half-smirk on her face.

"Beautiful, ain't they?" Asked the woman turning towards Elizabeth, who sat timidly on the edge of the bed waiting to be left alone at last.

"Yes," she answered with a forced smile.

"Yes... So you'd rather want to be careful, dear," said the woman looking at Elizabeth searchingly, as if trying to check whether she understood her.

"Careful?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows questioningly.

The woman smiled dryly.

"You don't think he's takin' care of you, givin' you these," she waived her hand around the room, "to receive a _thank you _in exchange", said the woman with a slight sneer. "Don't get me wrong, dear," she added seeing Elizabeth's rather bewildered facial expression. "I can see you're not from here. Just givin' you friendly advice. I know of men, and I especially know of men here. So," she said heading for the door. "Just be smart. This town's full of lasses who weren't smart enough when they ought to... Just givin' you friendly advice," she smiled, and went out of the room, slamming the door shut behind her.

Elizabeth stared at the door for a moment, baffled.

She felt a twinge of pain and disappointment. _Not from here..._ And she really had hoped that she was from here, and that she lived somewhere here. But if the woman was right... Then how was she ever to find out who she was? It was what worried her most. As for the rest... She did not think it was true... Yet... It might have been... It was strange after all, his concern...

Elizabeth sighed. She liked him, though. But it was even worse, of course. This morning, when she so stupidly had fallen into his arms, she had felt something fluttering in her mind, in her heart, something strange, yet very pleasant. His hands on her shoulders, only for mere seconds, only for several moments, before she had managed to get up as fast as she could, although somewhere in the back of her mind a barely audible voice was whispering... But she had not listened.

And what if he really was planning on taking advantage of her?

It frightened her.

It frightened her how much she did not care.

* * *

"Ah. Jack," said Barbossa, when Jack entered the Captain's Quarters. "I wonder whether ye still be here when I finish this sentence?" 

"As ye see I'm still here," answered Jack happily, looking around the cabin.

He grimaced, noticing something, and went to the large table, removing a plate with apples from it.

Barbossa rolled his eyes, and pulled himself up from a chair.

"I won't even ask where were ye," he said impatiently.

"Oh," exclaimed Jack, examining the bookshelves. "Good. I'd hate lyin' to ye."

Jack wrinkled his forehead, took one of the books from the shelf, looked at it closely, and threw the book away over his shoulder, hitting Barbossa straight in the face. The book fell on the floor. Barbossa closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to remain as calm as possible. He had his priorities strictly ordered. And it so happened that killing Jack Sparrow was not at the top of his list... at the moment.

"Are ye not at all interested in what it is that I've to tell ye?" Asked Barbossa staring angrily at Jack, who still was not facing him, but looking through the books instead.

Jack picked up one more book, looked curiously at the cover, and threw it away. This time, however, Barbossa stepped aside just in time to avoid being hit again. Jack finally turned around, and pointing his finger at the two books laying on floor, said somewhat disgustedly:

"I believe these are yours."

Barbossa sighed heavily. _Why he cannot just die. In his sleep._

"So ye're not interested in finding the Fountain of Youth, aye?" He asked with a grimace.

Jack looked pensively into the distance. "Even if I am," he started, walking over to his desk. "I fail to see the reason for discussing this interest with you."

Jack opened a large drawer, and looked inside.

"I want to find it too," said Barbossa, for some reason feeling suddenly rather stupid.

Jack looked up at him. "Best of luck to you, then," he said with a smile. "Don't forget your books," he added, looking back into the drawer.

Feeling even more stupid, and very angry at this point, Barbossa said through his teeth:

"I thought we should search for it together."

Jack looked at him, sincere astonishment in his eyes. "I'm flattered. But there comes a time in everybody's life when one must grow up, leave home and start a life on his own. On his own ship," he added firmly, giving Barbossa a meaningful look.

Barbossa stared at Jack steadily. "Where's the map, Jack?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Jack raised his eyebrows, and grinned. Barbossa grinned back. They both even laughed for a moment.

"I almost thought ye'r serious, mate," said Jack with a smile, and closed the drawer, opening another one.

Barbossa laughed dryly._ I was serious, bloody idiot_.

Jack took a small box out of the drawer, turned it around in his hand, and threw it to Barbossa, who instinctively caught it.

"Tell me," said Jack, closing the drawer loudly. "I have the map. I have the ship. Why would I need you?" He stood up, and narrowed his eyes.

Barbossa gave him a wide grin. "I almost thought ye're never going to ask."


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: **Thank you for all the reviews!**

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 10**

_She knows. She remembers. It's over._

The thoughts flashed across Jack's mind as soon as he opened the door. Elizabeth stood by the window, frowning. She wore an ash-pink light dress. He had picked this dress as the first one. He had thought she might like the color. Perhaps she did.

But she was displeased, nevertheless. There was something in her face, some vexation, irritation, anxiety. She looked at him when he came in. He could tell she was upset.

Yet, all he could think of was how beautiful she looked. And he did not regret... If there was anything to regret. Nothing had happened. He could easily explain to her why he had not told her immediately... It was just one day, after all. Just one day. One night. Uneventful one, apparently, too. She could not be _too_ angry at him...

Elizabeth came up to Jack quickly, a resolute expression on her face.

...could she?...

Was she going to slap him? Maybe. It was nothing new. He could live with this.

Elizabeth stood before him, silent, yet, she looked as if she was about to say something.

Was she going to yell at him? It was possible. She yelled quite well. Quite charmingly, too.

She bit her lower lip, staring at him, not really waiting for him to speak, but not really ready to speak herself either. She looked troubled.

Jack was steadily returning her gaze. He was not sure how should he start... Should he apologize? He was not sorry. At least not _very _sorry. As a matter of fact, he felt less sorry now, when it was apparently over, than before, when he was vexed, and uncertain what to do; when he had been lying to her.

The silence engulfed them. They stared at each other, both deep in their own thoughts, yet, looking in each other's eyes intently. Intently... Intensively, rather. Suddenly, Jack noticed how close they stood. Only inches away, actually.

"Why did you do that, Jack?" She finally asked in a low tone of voice.

Jack looked away, and stared at the floor for a moment. Then he looked up at her again. With some surprise he noticed that she shivered under his gaze._ Maybe she was not that angry at him? Maybe she was not angry... at all?_

"I don't know, Lizzie. I don't know," he muttered sadly.

Elizabeth felt suddenly very guilty. He had probably given her all those gifts out of compassion, and she was accusing him of some evil intentions... He must have felt treated unfairly. It hurt her, that he looked so grim all of a sudden. She liked his smile. She did not want him to look so sad. She did not want him to look so sad because of her.

Elizabeth took one more step forward. With certain relief Jack realized that she was not going to slap him. Clearly, she was not going to yell at him either. What was she going to do, then?

"I just thought, that one would be quite enough," said Elizabeth timidly, smiling faintly.

A glimpse of some unrecognizable emotion in his eyes frightened her. She did not know what it was. But somehow he looked even more sad now.

It did not hurt him, that obvious reference to his own words. He had said them, so she had a right to repeat them. But he had not meant them, back then. In fact, he had never meant anything _less._ That one kiss was not enough. He felt (subconsciously, because he would have never admitted it overtly), that no matter how many times they would kiss, he would have never had enough of it. Never.

"Elizabeth... I'm sorry," he said with a trace of exhaustion in his voice, not really knowing what he was sorry about. Was he sorry about his words, about not telling her the truth, about...

"No!" She exclaimed. "_I_ am sorry. I did not mean it..."

Jack blinked, and stared at her in bewilderment.

"I-I," stammered Elizabeth, suddenly reaching for his hand. "What I wanted to say was that one dress would be enough. I was little confused by all of these... and yet that woman... Never mind", she shook her head. "I'm sorry. I know-"

She went on, but he was not listening. The only thing that he had understood in that moment was that she did not know, that she did not remember. And that she had been talking about the clothes all this time, while he had been thinking...

He unconsciously squeezed her hand, and she stopped talking.

On the one hand it was a disaster. He had to continue carrying out this illusion, deception; this dream... On the other hand, he had never felt happier before.

Elizabeth watched him, and the change in his eyes, the change on his face puzzled her. She saw a trace of a smile flickering across his face, and all of a sudden, before she could do anything about it, he pulled her into his arms, and held her close, looking deeply into her eyes.

She instinctively, yet unconsciously rested her hands on his shoulders, trying to figure out what was happening. She could not tear her eyes off him, and the longer she looked into his eyes, the more hopeless she felt. Hopeless? No, not hopeless. Calm. Peaceful. Happy. Hopelessly happy...

Maybe his intentions _were _after all _debatable_...

"That woman," started Elizabeth, desperately looking for a pretext to say something, and brake this dangerous, intoxicating silence, brake away from his scent, from his presence, from his touch... She felt his arms wrapped around her, and it distracted her, but she continued nonetheless. "She told me that you're... maybe... doing this... for wrong reasons."

Jack smirked at her. He was in his good mood once again. He was in control of the situation. He held her in his arms, and she trembled.

"Maybe I am doing this for wrong reasons," he teased, leaning towards her.

Elizabeth tilted back her head. "I don't think you do," she said awkwardly. It was quite obvious at that point that this assumption might be wrong. But she refused to believe it.

"What makes you think I don't, luv?" He asked in the whisper which sent shivers down her spine. He looked at her searchingly, his lips twisted in a roguish smile. Whatever she was thinking right now, what was important for Jack was the fact that she had not pushed him away immediately.

"I trust you," she said blankly, her lips barely moving. She shifted her eyes from his eyes to his mouth, and then back to his eyes, anxiously. What if he would attempt to kiss her? What would she do? She knew what she was ought to do, but... will she do it? She was terrified. She could not even move, not to mention pushing him away, or pulling herself away.

Her string of thoughts was interrupted by a sad look which once again appeared on his face. What did she say? _Did I say something wrong?_

Jack looked at her grimly. He felt guilty. He felt dirty. _Trusts me. She trusts me. Oh Lizzie. What a mistake. You shouldn't. You really shouldn't._

"Maybe you shouldn't, Elizabeth," said Jack stiffly, his eyes dark, and undecipherable.

She looked at him in awe. She felt as if there was a totally different, mysterious world behind his eyes. She could look into his eyes ceaselessly. She drew shallow breaths in order not to suffocate, but she found it difficult to breathe at all. His mouth was hovering over hers, and instead of pulling away, she leaned forward, not breaking the eye contact with him even for a moment.

"Why shouldn't I?" She whispered, blushing, and trembling uncontrollably.

"Why shouldn't you?" He asked with a grin, his eyes glimmering, his arms tightening around her. He tried to forget about his thoughts. He tried to forget about the truth.

If there even was any truth beyond this moment.

"Tell me," she said purposelessly, just for the sake of talking, of focusing on something else...

She felt as if she had known him. As if he has always existed in her mind, in her imagination. _His eyes... _There was something about his eyes. Something that she knew. Something that she has longed for. Something she could hold on to.

_I'm just making it up... I'm making up some explanation... Some justification... This is wrong... This is so wrong... I should not..._

He brought his hand to her face, and gently ran his fingers across her cheek. Elizabeth gazed at him in disbelief. They have known each other for one day. He should not have even tried to do a fraction of what he was actually doing right now. How did he dare... How did he dare was the one side of the problem. Why she was letting him... was the other.

"Tell you what, Lizzie?" He inquired with a smirk, tracing her jawline with his fingertips. She looked quite terrified, but he knew that it was not because she was scared of him. If anything, she was rather afraid of herself...

"Tell me-," she started, but trailed off almost immediately.

Jack looked at her, only vaguely realizing that it was the first time when they were actually that close, when he could hold her in his arms, when their closeness was neither a game, nor an illusion. He did not even know he liked it that much. He liked being with her, and looking at her.

What difference did it make that it was stolen. This moment, this yesterday, this tomorrow... Will there be tomorrow?

And then she did something that he had not expected her to do. She just leaned towards him, and nestled her head into his chest.

It startled him. She really did trust him. And she needed him. She wanted him. It was happening. He could have her. He could be with her. It was possible. The garbled thoughts were racing through his mind, enchanting, enthralling, intoxicating, vicious... Vicious. Maybe if he told her... told her right now, she would understand... She would say she does not care... Would she care? Not remembering... She would not care, if she did not remember.

He hugged her close, frightened by how much he liked the feeling of her body pressed against his. Not in a sense... Well, not only in that sense. In a different sense. In a scary sense. In a sense that he knew little about. In a sense he did not want to get rid of.

Jack rested his head against hers, and closed his eyes. They were standing like that for a long time, without saying anything, without moving, without explaining...

Elizabeth listened to the heartbeat, wondering whether it was his heart, or her own that she was hearing. Her head raised and fall in the rhythm of his breathing. She felt absolutely safe, and happy. She felt as if she did not need anything more, anything else. Her memories? She did not care. Her past? She was suddenly disinterested in the subject. She could not explain it. She knew how weird were her thoughts in these circumstances. She knew how weird it was of them to stand here silently in an embrace, two people who barely have known each other.

Yet, she did not want to break away. She knew that there was something magical about this moment. And she did not want to break free.

She felt free. She was free. She was free in his arms. The realization amazed her.

"We should be going," whispered Jack into her hair.

"I know," she answered blankly.

Neither of them moved.

_Tell her now... I should tell her now... Now is not too late... And not too early either..._

"I think I'm alone," she said all of a sudden.

Jack tilted back his head, and looked at her hesitantly. "What do you mean?" He asked concernedly.

Elizabeth sighed softly. She did not even open her eyes. Jack stared at her, thinking how lovely she looked leaning like that against his chest.

"What would I have been doing here alone, if I don't live here...," she explained quietly, feeling the tears gathering under her eyelids.

"We are just about to find out whether you live here or not, luv," said Jack, almost disgusted with a natural manner in which he had said it.

"I know," muttered Elizabeth. "But I have a feeling that I don't live here," she opened her eyes, and looked at him.

"We shall see," said Jack, forcing a smile.

_The truth... I owe her the truth... _She was looking at him. He did not feel like losing her looking at him right now.

She timidly pulled away from him at last, and smoothen her hair in a nervous gesture.

"Let us go, then," she said with a faint smile.

"Let us go," he repeated absent-mindedly, turning around, and attempting to open the door. _Maybe now..._

"Jack..."

He turned around immediately. She stood right in front of him.

"Thank you," she said with a small smile, and before he had the time to answer, she leaned towards him, and quickly kissed him on the cheek.

He gave her a roguish grin, and she blushed.

"I just-," she started.

"You just wanted to kiss me, Lizzie. I can certainly understand that," he cut in.

Elizabeth blinked, shocked. "No. No, I didn't," she assured him firmly.

He grinned again.

"I did not!" She repeated irritably.

"Very well, then. You didn't want to kiss me," agreed Jack, trying to sound serious.

Elizabeth calmed down, satisfied with his consent. But then, she noticed a mischievous glint in his eyes, and in no time she found herself being pulled into his arms once again.

_The hell with the truth._

"I did want to kiss _you_, though," he smirked, and leaned towards her, but the knock on the door thwarted his plans unsympathetically.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: **My wonderful reviewers: thank you so much for your reviews!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc. I sold them to Disney long time ago...

**Chapter 11**

Jack, who had not been very fond of the doctor already, now disliked him even more. The doctor's superfluous appearance ruined the moment, ruined the moment that Jack had not even hoped for so soon, yet, it was nevertheless gone now, and from Elizabeth's behaviour he suspected that she will take special precautions in the future in order to keep her conscience clear.

For she walked beside him with a clearly guilty expression on her face.

They strolled along the streets of Tortuga in silence. The day was bright, and humid.

Jack wondered whether she was thinking about _them_, or rather pondering over the doctor's words...

The doctor had told them, that Elizabeth may never get her memory back. Of course, her memories might as well come back at any moment. But it was impossible to determine the chances for either of these versions.

Should she never remember of the past... It was a dangerous thought. And an alluring one, too. Jack felt uncomfortable. Yesterday, he really _had_ planned on telling her the truth... someday. Today, however, he began to realize that his definition of "someday" was more than ambiguous.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see that Elizabeth was stealing glances at him. A barely visible smile flickered across his face. In one swift movement, he grabbed her hand, and laced it through his arm.

"I don't want to lose you," he explained, shooting her a brief, casual look.

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment as they continued walking. She did not know what to say. On the one hand, she wanted to make it clear to him that what had happened (or rather what had _almost_ happened) in the morning was accidental, unintentional, improper. But on the other...

"Neither do I," said Elizabeth under her breath.

"What was that, luv?" Asked Jack looking at her curiously, even though he had heard what she had said well enough.

Elizabeth was considering leaving his question unanswered, but eventually decided to say something.

"I said," she started quietly, her eyes fixed on the ground, "that I don't want to lose you either," she concluded, her last words barely audible. _Why am I saying this?! He's going to think... God knows what he is going to think._

Elizabeth was afraid to look up at him, so she just kept her gaze on her shoes. Nevertheless, she wondered what his facial expression might be like right now. Was he smirking? Grinning? Sneering? She wanted to know, but did not dare to look.

Jack watched her intently. She felt his eyes roaming over her, and it was making her nervous. Paradoxically (or not), she tightened her grip around his arm. She just did not want to fall down. She felt almost too nervous to walk.

Jack smiled, more to himself than at her, since she was not looking at him at the moment anyway. He has never thought that strolling around may be that pleasant. He has always considered walking simply as the process of getting from one place to another. And now he did not care from where, and to where he was going.

"Shouldn't we start asking?" Asked Elizabeth in a low tone of voice, and finally looked up at Jack.

"Asking?" He echoed, suddenly shaken out of his thoughts.

"If anybody knows me," hinted Elizabeth, finding herself gazing at him intensely. She quickly looked away, hoping that he had not noticed.

"You're welcome to stare at me as much as you wish, Lizzie," he grinned to her dismay, after a moment of silence, during which she had hoped that her gaze had escaped his notice.

"I did not-," she looked at him, and broke off, as her eyes locked with his. She forgot what she was going to say.

She did not know what exactly was going on. She should concentrate _exclusively _on thinking about her life, about her past. Maybe if she would think hard enough... But somehow she kept thinking about _him_ instead. She felt guilty, and she was angry with herself. And she did not understand why she was thinking about him.

Strangely enough, she hoped that he was thinking about her too... _Why do I want him to be thinking about me?!_

"Let's start asking, then," said Jack, looking around.

"Asking?" Elizabeth gave him an absent-minded look.

"If anybody knows ye, luv," smirked Jack, leaning towards her, and planting a soft kiss on her cheek.

She looked away hurriedly.

He desperately wanted to kiss her on the mouth. That one memory, that one kiss tortured him. It tortured him, because it had happened only once. He needed to kiss her again. But he did not want to scare her. He did not want her to think that he was some seductive, untrustworthy, lustful pirate... which he was... trying not to be... right now...

Million thoughts flickered across Elizabeth's mind. She wanted to push him away; she wanted to throw her arms around his neck; she wanted to slap him; she wanted to kiss him; she wanted to kiss him, kiss him, kiss him, kiss him-

"Lizzie?"

She turned to him abruptly. "Yes?"

"What have you been thinking of?" Asked Jack, looking interestedly into her quizzically glimmering eyes.

"Nothing," she shook her head, and looked away, furtively gasping for air.

* * *

It so seemed that on the entire island of Tortuga Elizabeth was unseen, and unheard of. Nobody recognized her. Nobody claimed to have ever seen her. Nobody even recollected hearing any news about a missing person. She was as much of a stranger to people here, as she was to herself. 

Interestingly enough, it turned out, however, that almost every person that they had encountered, had known Captain Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth observed in wonder all the people who greeted Jack, who waved their hands in his direction, who invited him for drinks. There was also a considerable amount of women either smiling at him, or frowning at him, but they did not come close, perhaps because of Elizabeth's presence.

"If you were to lose your memory," said Elizabeth, as they walked as far as the end of the town, "you would have had no problems with finding out who you were."

She stared at the ground, and although Jack could hear a trace of playfulness in her voice, he could also hear the sorrow.

And he was the one to be blamed for it. He had just spent four hours carrying out a viciously purposeless search, and observing her face repeatably brightening up with hope, only to fade into resignation mere seconds later, when another person had shaken his head, or shrugged his shoulders in denial.

He was disgustedly impressed by his own craftiness. Yet, he had lied in his life for more trivial, more unimportant, and decidedly worse reasons... So it was not at all that bad, after all... above all... all in all...

Of course it was bad!... It was... He stopped in mid-thought, as he felt Elizabeth head leaning on his shoulder. He looked at her. She walked beside him, still clenching his arm. As a matter of fact, she has not let go of his arm even for a second since they began their fruitless recognition quest.

The wind gently tugged on the loose, golden brown locks of her hair, which sparkled in the sun. She seemed sad, and she was beautiful. And she was here. She was here with him. She was holding on to him, as if he was the only person in the entire world. As if he was her world.

And it would be more than a lie to say that he did not like this idea.

In fact, he more than liked it.

_A good man_, he sneered to himself. _What an insight, Lizzie. What an insight._

"I know what we could do now," whispered Jack into her ear.

She cringed, feeling his breath on her skin. She looked up, meeting his gaze. She was beginning to feel stranger and stranger in his presence.

She gave him a questioning look.

"I'll show ye something, luv," he said with a roguish smile.

_Do whatever you want... _Elizabeth looked away, as her eyes flew wide open in terror at the sudden realization of where her own thoughts were heading.

They walked out of the town along a small path leading across the forest. At the end of the forest was a glade, beyond which was only a steep, high cliff. As they reached the edge of it, a soft moan escaped Elizabeth's mouth, when she saw the spectacular view stretching away before them - the immense, endless, beautiful ocean shimmering with all the shades of blue.

"It's breathtaking," she said quietly with a smile, taking a few steps forward om her own, but Jack quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, and pulled her from behind toward him.

"You want to be careful, Lizzie," he whispered. "You don't want to fall down from here. It's rather dangerous."

She wanted to answer, but the words flew away from her, as his lips made contact with her skin, kissing lightly the side of her face, her cheek, her chin...

"What are you doing Jack," she demanded, struggling to sound matter-of-factly, but failing terribly.

"What do you think I'm doing?" He asked teasingly, brushing his lips along her neck.

"I've no idea," she lied in a faltering voice. "That's why I'm asking."

He stopped, and she opened her eyes with reprehensible regret. He spun her around, and locked her in his arms, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Do you think it wise, darling, to wander around with a pirate?" He asked narrowing his eyes, and tightening his embrace.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, as she suddenly realized... Pirate. She had never actually thought of that. She had never thought about him in terms of a pirate. Yes, it did make sense now. He looked like a pirate... He was a captain... It had just never crossed her mind before...

Yet, there was also something else... Pirate... The word sounded strange... Strange... It meant something... Only she did not know what it meant...

She shook herself out of her musings, realizing that she should be rather pushing him away instead of just letting him hold her while she was mulling over her unimportant mental associations.

"I have told you already that I trust you," she said defensively.

Jack rolled his eyes in exasperation. "No, no. Ye're not supposed to say that. Ye're supposed to be beggin' me right now to spare yer life," he explained patiently with a sigh.

Elizabeth burst out laughing. Jack looked at her in sudden awe. Had he ever heard her laughing? He quickly reviewed all his memories of her in his mind. She had smiled, she had grinned. But she had never laughed.

He propped her chin with his hand, and looked her in the eyes, with a half-grin. Elizabeth stopped laughing, but a smile was still flickering in her eyes.

"You underestimate me, luv," he whispered.

To his surprise, she leaned into him, and whispered: "And you underestimate me."

Jack pensively brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear, gazing at her steadily. Elizabeth stared at him, her eyes curiously roaming over his face.

After a moment of silence, he said in a strangely hollow tone of voice:

"I have something to tell you, Elizabeth."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: _**Thank you very, very much for all the reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 12**

Elizabeth looked at Jack expectantly.

What did he want to tell her? It crossed her mind that he was going to say that he... She suppressed the thought frantically. What an abstract idea. What a nonsense!... She could not quite understand why was she having all these completely ridiculous ideas running through her head. She has met him only yesterday. And she expected him, or at least wished him to (which was even worse, actually) tell her that he... loved her?!... Why?! Maybe because he had this look on his face... Or maybe her imagination was playing tricks on her... She cringed inwardly at her own silliness. Despite the fact that (for some absolutely weird, and unknown reasons) she wanted him to say it, she knew that even if he would actually say it, she would consider it a lie. He could not have possibly... _Not so soon... Of course not!_, she scolded herself quickly. _I have lost my memory along with my common sense, I guess_, she snapped to herself irritably.

Jack stared at Elizabeth quizzically.

For one fleetingly brief, and transiently passing moment he intended to tell her the so called truth. (He had discovered lately that the word "truth" sounded better – that is less guilt-inducing - if preceded by "so called"). Not that he believed in telling her the truth anymore. Would not that be better to just let things happen? If she was to recover the past, she will recover it (lucid and logical assumption, that was). After all, he did not try to make her _not remember_. He did not try to make her _forget_. He was merely _not interrupting_ the natural flow of events. Moreover, it would be perhaps even better if she was to remember everything again without being _forced_ to remember... Telling her would be artificial... It would be closer to _imposing_ her past _on_ her, and not helping her to organize her memories...

Within seven seconds Jack had himself absolutely convinced that telling her the truth would be mean, cruel, superfluous, and harmful.

He took her by the hand, and asked to look at the sea. "Do you see this ship over there, Lizzie?" He asked pointing to the _Black Pearl_ docked among other ships in the bay below the cliff.

"The one with the black sails?" She looked at him for confirmation, but quickly turned her head, and looked straight ahead at the sea again. _He is standing too close._ They stood next to each other, Jack's arm as if disinterestedly wrapped around her waist.

He wondered whether the sight of the _Pearl_ could trigger any memories... Whether there was anything that could trigger her memories to reappear... Needless to say, the doctor, when asked, had offered no answers to these questions.

"Aye," he nodded, glancing at her contentedly. She glanced back, almost involuntarily, as if his eyes possessed some strange, magnetic quality.

Could she develop all these... emotions towards him overnight? They must have been there before. She must have felt something for him before... The thought startled him. And then he also remembered that right after that accident, and before she had lost consciousness, she had said... she had said something like... "I wish we have met before"... How could he forget that? And... what had she meant by that? Why was she in Tortuga?...

Lost in pondering over his new mental discoveries, he subconsciously pulled her closer towards him causing her to gasp. The gasp shook him out of his thoughts.

"Aye. That'd be me ship, luv," he said, trying to concentrate.

"She's beautiful," said Elizabeth decidedly, squinting her eyes to see the ship better.

They stood looking out at the ocean, and ships for a moment, until Jack gently turned her around, closing her in an embrace.

He had a strange, abstract feeling, constantly present in the back of his mind that if he will not hold her close enough, and strong enough, she may vanish. Along with the world.

Because his definition of the world has changed drastically, as of late...

"I'm to set sail soon," he said in a low tone of voice, looking at her searchingly.

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment. So that was it. It was this that he had to tell her. He was leaving.

Her first reaction was an overwhelming panic. She shuddered, feeling suddenly very cold, very empty; horrified. She tried to calm down, finding her reaction far from suitable.

Of course he was leaving. He had his own life to carry out. And this life was going to carry him away from her now. _From me? _That was not the case... Just an awkward expression...

Jack observed with timid fascination how the traces of sadness, and regret flashed across her face.

"Oh," she said blankly with a nervously polite smile. "I see," she looked away, but then fixed her eyes back on him again when he ran his hand across her cheek.

"And that's why I have a question for you," he whispered quizzically.

Elizabeth looked puzzled. Both by his words, and by his gestures, as he slowly began tracing the outline of her lips with his rough fingertips. She tried everything in order not to shiver, but to no avail. She was thinking about brushing his hand away. And while she was thinking about it, he leaned down towards her, and buried his head in her hair. She felt him kissing her hair, and her neck with strange abandon. Her eyelids fell heavily over her eyes, shutting her off from the reality.

_I am ought to stop this._

Instead, she lifted her hand, and delicately stroked his hair. She felt giddy. The voices of warnings in her head sounded muffled. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and it was as if this gesture took a weight off her mind. She suddenly felt serene, and carefree.

And she could not tell for sure, but she was fairly certain that she had never felt like this before.

He said something. She had not heard him, so she asked him to repeat what he had said. He kissed her ear before whispering into it:

"Will you sail away with me?"

She drew back a little, to look at him. He rested his forehead against hers, and repeated once again, his eyes closed:

"Will you sail away with me, Lizzie?"

He sounded defeated. Defeated was the first word that came to Elizabeth's mind. She had no idea why he should have sounded defeated, but it was what it sounded like to her.

"What do you mean, Jack?" She asked quietly, staring at his coal-black painted eyelids, waiting for him to open his eyes.

He sighed, tilted back his head, and looked at her. "I want to take you on my ship, and sail away with you," he said as simply as possible, idly sifting his fingers through her hair.

"I don't think I can-," she started hesitantly, despite her quickened heartbeat, and the overwhelming wave of heat running through her entire body.

"Why not?" He asked in a surprisingly frightened tone of voice, which made Elizabeth smile.

"Well, I...," she thought about it for a moment. "I must look for... I must find... What if somebody is looking for me?" She asked, looking at him uncertainly.

"Who?" Asked Jack wrinkling his forehead. He sounded almost annoyed. His tone of voice surprised Elizabeth.

"I don't know," she muttered, baffled. "My parents, maybe..."

_Bravo. Now tell her off for daring to mention having parents. Bugger._

"I'm sorry. Of course. I know," mumbled Jack guiltily. "I just thought," he started after a pause, "that maybe since, due to some utterly undesirable and unwelcome circumstances occurring due to some even more undesirable and unwelcome sudden appearances of some should-be-dead-but-are-not people, I have to make a certain trip to a certain place right now, you could come with me, and afterwards we could go back here, and resume our search or whatever you'd wish to resume here," concluded Jack, gazing into her eyes with almost desperate intensity.

Elizabeth blinked, far from being able to comprehend what it actually was that he had said. While she was working on an answer, Jack pulled her closer towards him once again.

"Your answer, luv," smirked Jack, his mouth hovering over hers.

"I don't know anything about you, Jack," she said under her breath, glad to find something reasonable to say, instead of asking whether they were leaving right now or in an hour.

"And what would you like to know, Lizzie?" Inquired Jack with a mischievous grin, seeing this flash in her eyes which told him that she had already made up her mind.

Elizabeth looked at him pensively, trying to think of a question. And he was not helping her concentrate, caressing her face with the back of his hand.

"What do you feel," she started at last in a serious tone of voice, "when you're standing at the helm in the middle of a stormy, starry night?" She asked quietly, catching him off guard with the question.

He looked at her interestedly.

The truth. How could he have missed that? The only truth was here and now.

Of all the opportune moments that he had come across in his life, it was the most important, the most beautiful one, and yet he had almost thrown it away!... And for what reason? For trying to be a good man? Laughable, indeed. For trying to be honest? Why? For trying to play fair? It had never worked, anyway, and even if it had, it was always bringing the results not even worth mentioning.

He had spent so many nights dreaming of her. He had spent so much time regretting, contemplating, turning back time in his imagination. And now the time had been turned back. The map was blank. He could paint it anew. He could do everything once again. He could do it better. He could do it _at all_.

A smile flickered across his face, as he stared into her eyes. _Pirate. My pirate._

_The truth. No more of this nonsense... or sense... Doesn't matter, anyway. The truth is a low price to be paid for what you want most in this world. _

He put his finger over her lips, and said in a barely audible whisper:

"If you sail away with me, luv, I will show you what it feels like. I promise," he added with a roguish smile.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: _**My dear reviewers: thank you very much for your reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 13**

Of course it was only after that lovely afternoon excursion that it dawned on Jack how difficult carrying out his simple plan would actually be.

His options were severely limited: he could either lock Elizabeth up in his cabin to make sure that nobody will notice her, or politely ask everybody on board to pretend that they were seeing her for the very first time in their lives.

Yes. He could as much picture all the crew members _plus_ Barbossa (_Bugger_) meekly nodding their heads in agreement without even asking him questions, as he could picture Elizabeth staying eagerly below deck for a month or so.

Of course there was always a third possibility of shooting all those who could recognize her, leaving only the crew members that have never met her. Right.

"Bugger," muttered Jack taking a long swig of rum.

"Jack!" Said Gibbs happily, coming into the Captain's Quarters. "I've been told ye wanted to talk to me, aye?"

"Close the door," ordered Jack grimly.

Gibbs' smile faded, as he obediently closed the door behind him.

"I knew somethin's botherin' ye, Jack." Gibbs sat opposite to Jack at the table. Jack shuffled him a bottle of rum, putting his own away.

"Elizabeth's in Tortuga," he said wrinkling his forehead, without looking up at Gibbs.

Gibbs arched his eyebrows, and lowered the bottle, before even managing to drink from it.

"Is she now," he said thoughtfully. "That's...," he tried to deduce from Jack's facial expression, whether he should demonstrate some enthusiasm, or rather worry.

Jack's looked up at him. "That's one hell of a hell," he said sharply.

"Aye," quickly nodded Gibbs. "That's awful."

"What's awful?" Jack gave him a hard look.

Gibbs blinked. "I thought-," he started, but trailed off, confused.

"That's a miracle," whispered Jack unexpectedly, causing Gibbs to chuckle, and once again lower his rum bottle before taking a swig.

"Aye. That's wonderful," agreed Gibbs, hoping that it will not get yet more confusing.

"What's wonderful?" Asked Jack suspiciously, knitting his eyebrows.

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment, trying to concentrate. "How's she?" He decided to try changing the topic if only slightly, to move on with the conversation.

"She had an accident," said Jack quietly, staring at the floor.

"An accident!?" Exclaimed Gibbs concernedly. "Is she alright?"

"She's fine," nodded Jack hesitantly.

"But somethin' _is_ wrong?" Asked Gibbs knowingly.

"Aye," replied Jack tapping his fingertips on the table. "Actually, it's wrong that it isn't wrong that it's wrong."

"Sounds bad enough," observed Gibbs, perplexed.

Jack looked up, and stared at Gibbs intently for a moment. "She's lost her memory," he said in a quiet tone of voice.

Gibbs froze with the bottle in his hand. "What d'ye mean?" He asked not sure whether he understood correctly.

Jack shot him an exhausted look. "I mean that she doesn't remember any bloody thing," he snapped angrily.

"Oh," acknowledged Gibbs, falling into a pensive mood. Suddenly, after a moment of silence, his face brightened up. "But luckily ye were there to tell her everything, so she'll not-"

Gibbs fell silent. The only sound in the room was Jack's fingers tapping on the table top; faster and faster.

"Because ye've told her everything, haven't ye?" Asked Gibbs cautiously, suddenly struck by an idea.

Jack shifted his gaze from the floor to Gibbs. "Everything's a lot," he pointed out with a small, bitter smile flickering across his lips.

"Ye didn't tell 'er who ye are?" Inquired Gibbs hesitantly.

"That I did," muttered Jack, wrinkling his forehead.

"And ye did tell 'er who she is?" Said Gibbs timidly.

"Not quite," admitted Jack after a pause.

"Not quite," repeated Gibbs, blinking. "And why is that, Jack?"

"Well-," Jack straightened up in his chair.

"Ah," cut in Gibbs, with a knowing expression on his face. "Ye didn't want to tell 'er 'bout Will."

Jack stared at Gibbs wide-eyed for a moment, quite shocked by both the fact that Gibbs could voice such an assumption so arrogantly easily, and also by the very sound of the name. Not once did he say that name to himself since...

"Ye didn't want to make her sad right after that accident, aye?" To Jack's surprise Gibbs nodded his head in full understanding.

Jack blinked. "Yes I didn't want to make her sad right after the accident," he repeated hurriedly, almost mechanically in a blank tone of voice.

Gibbs sighed, and reached for his bottle of rum. Jack glanced at him to make sure that he was not being ironic. Not that Gibbs has ever been ironic. But there was always a possibility for a man who has never been ironic to start being ironic.

But of course Gibbs was not being ironic. _Only because you are a sarcastic, vicious, duplicitous, bloody liar does not mean that everybody else is like that too._

"So," started Jack confidentially, in an almost joyful tone of voice. "If we take Elizabeth aboard, we have to make sure that nobody tells her anything until she feels good enough to hear it."

"Aye," Gibbs consented doubtfully. "But Jack... One thing that bothers me... What 'bout Barbossa? Do we really need to have him sail with us?"

"Ah," grimaced Jack, realizing that he did not have time to think about _that_ yet. "I'm afraid we do. He has the chart," said Jack, glancing at Gibbs resignedly.

"I thought _we_ have the map," observed Gibbs, looking somewhat confused.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yes, it is us who have the map, but it is him, who has the chart. Savvy?"

"Do we need the chart, if we have the map?" Asked Gibbs, after a pause.

"No," replied Jack, staggering to his feet. "I just thought that having a traitorous treacherous traitor aboard would be a tremendously terrific idea, aye?"

Gibbs smiled apologetically.

* * *

Elizabeth was bustling around the room anxiously. 

_What am I doing? What am I doing? I shouldn't be doing this... I don't even know him... No, actually... he is the only person that I know._

Elizabeth went over to the window, and looked out to the street. _He said he will come..._

She shook her head impatiently, and rushed to the wardrobe. She needed to pack... But she had no trunk.

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed._ "If you sail away with me, luv, I will show you what it feels like. I promise." _When he had said this, she thought that he was going to kiss her. But he had not kissed her. He had just hugged her, and she nestled her head into his chest, and they were standing there in silence for some time, before going back to the town.

"Luv." She felt her heart fluttering every time he said it. "Lizzie." It was as if he was bringing her back to life... As if she was being invisible, and only when he spoke her name she was able to materialize, to appear, to exist. To be. She was with him. She was only when she was with him. She was when he was.

Elizabeth rested her head against the pillow, and closed her eyes. She felt strange. She felt strange, because she suddenly felt as if she has not lost her memory... As if there was nothing beyond here and now. As if – she shuddered – she did not need anything else apart from here and now...

She felt guilty. She should not feel like this. Maybe there were some people out there who were looking for her, who missed her, who loved her...

Elizabeth opened her eyes warily. _I miss him._ _I miss his eyes. I miss his voice. I miss his touch. _She smiled._ Jack. _It was good that she had his name to hold on to._ Jack. _The name sent shivers up her spine. _Jack. _It was only a name, but it made her tremble, it made her smile, it made her feel significant... She thought of it for a moment. Why? Why did thinking about _him_ make _her_ feel significant? She was not sure. Maybe it was because he was the only person that she knew, the only person that she had...

...or maybe it was because he behaved as if _she _was the only person that_ he _had...

Elizabeth stared at the wall absent-mindedly, when she suddenly noticed something on the chair. It was a dress. It was her dress. It was all that was left from her past. She slipped off the bed, took the dress in her hands, and shook the dust off it.

With a quiet, jingling sound, a small item fell down to the floor. Elizabeth stooped down to pick it up, and looked at the small, metal object with curiosity.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the reviews! **_:)

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 14**

"Look, Jack! Look what I found!" Exclaimed Elizabeth excitedly, when Jack came to the inn that evening.

She ran to him as soon as he opened the door. Jack closed the door, and when he turned to face her, he was faced instead with the object that she was holding in her hand. His eyes widened. The object looked dreadfully familiar.

"It's strange, isn't it?" Said Elizabeth looking at the item in her hand interestedly. "It doesn't really look like a door key... What do you think?"

"Where did you find it, luv?" He asked, trying to sound casual. He looked at her closely, searching her face for traces of recognition, of realization, of suspicion.

But he could see none of these. Just an innocent interest, pure joy of, even if undecipherable, but still discovery.

"It was in a little pocket of my dress," she pointed to the dress, her eyes still fixed on the key that once belonged to Davy Jones. "And," she continued, "I have another one," she said with a small, childish smile, showing him yet another, but quite ordinary looking key. "But this one looks like a regular door key. Maybe it is the key to my house?" She looked at Jack expectantly, as if he could answer this question better than she. "But that one," she focused on the dreary key again, "it's rather unusual. What do you think, Jack?"

What did he think, indeed. Did he think that everything will just conveniently disappear? That nothing will stand in their... in his path? It was a path of deception, after all. A selfish path. And a stolen one, too.

"Jack?" She took a step towards him, looking at him concernedly. He looked sad. And she did not want him to look sad.

She noticed, subconsciously, that whenever she began discussing the issues somehow related to her past, he grew pensive. Why was that, she wondered. Was it because he pitied her that she could not remember? Or rather because... he was afraid that there was something in her past, about her past that could separate them... Separate... them? Them. _Us. Us?!_

"Jack?"

He looked up at her, abruptly averting his eyes from the key. With some surprise he realized, that she cupped the side of his face with her hand.

"Are you alright?" She asked, still leaning closer.

"If there was-," he started, but broke off almost immediately. "Lizzie..."

"Yes?" She whispered, her fingers running down his cheek. She liked the feeling of his skin under her fingertips... She liked the impression of his scent enveloping her... She liked the sight of his eyes gazing into hers... She liked-

"Lizzie..." _Maybe now I should..._

She forgot all about the keys. Her fingers travelled across his face, tracing his jaw-line, and the outline of his lips. She shivered, amazed by the sensation elicited by what she was doing, whatever she was doing. She was not sure what she was doing, actually. She just did not want him to look sad... And she wanted to touch him... To be close to him... Decidedly closer than she thought she ought to be...

He gently got hold of her hand, and kissed it tenderly. _Maybe I should... But I guess I won't._

"Are you certain that you want to put that funny idea in my head, darling?" He smirked, narrowing his eyes. He seemed to cheer up a bit.

"What funny idea?" She muttered, suddenly ashamed of what she had done just a moment ago, even though it was nothing particularly significant. _It was nothing particularly significant. It was nothing particularly significant._

He smirked again, still holding her hand, and toying with her fingers.

"What funny idea?" She repeated in a slightly annoyed tone of voice, hoping that the annoyance conceals well both her anxiety and her embarrassment.

As if there was ever anything that could escape his notice.

"Why are you trembling, Lizzie?" He asked, unashamedly ignoring her former inquiries.

She glared at him, taken aback by the bluntness of his question. "I am not-," she trailed off, suddenly realizing that trembling she, in fact, was. "It's cold," she came up with the most ridiculous explanation, as the evening was exceptionally warm, and humid.

"Ah," Jack smiled knowingly. "But it's quite warm where I'm standing. So," he slipped his other hand around her waist, and swiftly dragged her towards him. She gasped in surprise, and accidentally dropped the keys. "So perhaps you should stand here as well," he said in a low tone of voice, grinning.

Elizabeth stared at him, speechless, and unable to move. She could feel his chest, pressed against hers, rising and falling as he breathed. Or as she breathed?... She could not tell. She was angry with him. She wanted to tell him that she was angry with him, and that he had no sense of propriety whatsoev-

She wrinkled her forehead. _Sense of propriety... sense of propriety... the boy has a sense of propriety... at least... at least... the boy... at least the boy has a sense of propriety..._

Jack was looking at her amusedly, when he noticed that she suddenly drifted away in her thoughts, as her eyes began wandering around absent-mindedly.

"Are you alright?" Asked Jack hesitantly, tightening his grip around her waist without even realizing it.

At the sound of his voice she automatically looked at him, but then she looked away again.

_Are you alright... Are you alright... Elizabeth... Elizabeth. Are you alright? _The same voice. It was the same voice that was speaking these words in her head. "At least the boy has a sense of propriety." "Elizabeth. Are you alright?"

And then the sentences flew like a river. _Elizabeth are you alright, Elizabeth are you there, Elizabeth are you even listening to me, Elizabeth..._

"It is my name," she whispered, a ghost of a smile flickering across her lips.

Jack looked at her attentively.

"It is my name," she looked up at him, and smiled. "I've just heard it in my head... Somebody called me that... Elizabeth. It is my name. I... remember!" She exclaimed happily, waiting for him to join her in her enthusiasm. She put her hands on his shoulders, and looked at him expectantly.

"I'm glad to hear it," he said stiffly, sounding anything but glad. He forced a smile.

Elizabeth's smile faded. She looked at him worriedly. He looked away, but still held her in his embrace, if only unconsciously.

She gathered all her courage, and asked him openly: "Why are you thinking that once I remember the past I will hurriedly disappear, merely bothering to wave you good-bye?"

He looked at her, utterly astonished.

"Because this is what you're thinking. Isn't it, Jack?" She asked softly.

_Because this is what you would do, dear Lizzie. Because this is what you would do..._

"Because if this is what you think," she looked at him, thinking that maybe he would say something, but he kept strangely silent, so she went on herself. "Well, then, I wish to inform you that this is not what I would do..."

"Yes it is," he mumbled firmly, knitting his eyebrows.

"What was that, Jack?" She asked, subconsciously registering that she asked this question in a much him-like fashion.

He looked at her sadly. "Yes it is what you would do, Lizzie," he said quietly.

Elizabeth stared at him, puzzled. Puzzled by the absolute certainty in his voice. The lack of doubt. The lack of space for negotiations.

"No, it isn't," she said resolutely.

"Yes it is," he insisted.

"No, it isn't," countered Elizabeth impatiently.

"Yes, it is."

Elizabeth was visibly upset. She disliked being disagreed with. She simply could not stand it. Especially when she was right. And she knew she was right now. While he was wrong. And he did not know that. He did not seem to be even considering the possibility of being wrong. As if _he_ could know better what _she_ would do!...

Elizabeth pursed her lips. She wanted to change his mind, and she did not know what she could do to achieve that, since he ignored what she was saying.

Words would simply not do.

Jack looked at her, once again thinking about telling her the truth. Maybe she would understand. But even if she would understand... It was never about understanding, was it? He did not need her to understand. He needed her to be with him. Could she understand _that_? Could he?...

But perhaps he was living an illusion, and there was nothing else to be done, but tell her the truth.

And so he would have told her the truth. He really would have told her the truth. He was about to tell her the truth, when she suddenly leaned towards him, and pressed her lips against his.

She did not kiss him. She just awkwardly pressed her lips to his, not sure what she was going to do next. She thought that it would not be something particularly significant, just a gesture... But to her surprise, she was amazed beyond comprehension by the sensation of his rough, dry, warm, sweet lips merely touching hers. They reminded her of something... They carried emotions, they carried images, they carried sounds... She felt elated. She felt free. She felt alive. In her mind's eye she saw the tormented sea, the overcast sky, the burning sun. She heard the wind, the waves crashing against each other, the rain pouring down in torrents.

Still not quite believing that it was really happening, Jack nonetheless began kissing her. Slowly, and tenderly at first, half-expecting her to draw back at any moment. But when he felt her arms wrap around his neck, he kissed her harder, and pulled her closer to him in an almost arrogant manner.

But it was not arrogance. It was desperation. And it was fear. Fear of the truth hanging in the air like an invisible sword about to cut through the moment, cut through his soul.

She kissed him back passionately, and he deepened the kiss, kissing her impatiently, thoroughly, hungrily.

She broke the kiss, gasping for air. Jack opened his eyes, and saw her smiling with her eyes still closed. He leaned down, and kissed her eyelids. She laughed, and opened her eyes.

They looked in each other's eyes in shimmering silence.

Jack rested his forehead against Elizabeth's, and gently stroked her hair with the back of his hand.

* * *

"So it is true...," whispered Bootstrap Bill Turner, running his finger along the lines of calligraphic writing. 

He leaned down over the book's old, tatty, yellowed pages, and read the script, muttering to himself:

"...drinks...Fountain of Youth...freed...curse...brought back to life..."


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the reviews!**_

This is going to be the last chapter (oh, the suspense... lol) in which we are in Tortuga;) And next chapter we finally set sail!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 15**

"And what happened next?" Elizabeth looked up at Jack expectantly.

They were sitting on the bed, Jack's arm around Elizabeth, her head leaning against his chest.

"That," he said in a firm tone of voice, "I will tell you tomorrow, luv, or... rather later today, as it is apparently way past midnight already."

"Jack!" She clasped his shirt sleeve, and looked at him with a slight frown.

He looked at her, smirking.

They spent past few hours talking (or rather it was Jack who did the talking, and Elizabeth who did the listening). She wanted him to tell her everything about him, about his ship, about his crew, about his life. She wanted to know of his past, as if it was her own. As if it could become her own. As if it was hers already.

"Jack," she said in a low tone of voice, looking at him pleadingly. "You can't stop there. You must tell me how did you get off that island?"

He looked at her in a strange way. The way that sent shivers down her spine. The way that made her feel helpless. He did not look _at_ her. He looked _through_ her. It both frightened, and fascinated her. But most importantly, it made her feel real.

Jack looked at her thinking that they were sitting like that last time he remembered on that island, where they had been marooned together. The only time, in fact, when he had held her close. And now, he could hold her close again.

Except that now there was no rum she could burn. And no hidden intentions. Now it was nearly perfect.

Nearly.

The truth was nearly drifting away. He could see it drifting, disappearing, vanishing. Even though it was still there, somewhere. Only he did not exactly know where. Was it in him? Or in her? Or was it everywhere? Yes. Everywhere...

Because even if he does not tell her, she may still remember the past... someday. Someday it may come back. Someday it may find her... find him... find them... Them. _Us._

"Jack," Elizabeth tugged gently on his shirt. "How did you esc-"

He hugged her close, and kissed her, trying to get rid of all these thoughts that were haunting him unnecessarily. Unnecessarily... He could not afford it. He could not afford losing her again. He has lost her so many times, too many times. He has been losing her forever.

And now she was in his arms, and she wrapped her arms around him, and she smiled, and she laughed, and she seemed happy, and... she was being lied to. By him. Even though she was probably the only person that he has never wished to deceive. And here he was. Deceiving her in the most vicious way imaginable. He was turning her own free will against her.

He deepened the kiss, entangling his fingers in her hair, when she suddenly pulled away.

_She remembers_, the words automatically resounded in his head. They haunted him. These two words that could shatter everything.

"You will... think ill of me," she whispered catching her breath, and avoiding his eyes.

Jack raised his eyebrows, slightly puzzled. "What was that, luv?" He propped her chin with his hand, forcing her to look at him.

"I have just met you, and I already let you... kiss me," she said in a barely audible whisper, blushing.

Jack stared at her for a moment, trying to comprehend what exactly the trouble was. So it was the part that he has skipped last time. (_Last time being when she lived in the real world, and not in the world that you have created,_ he snapped to himself irritably.) A young girl. A governor's daughter. A well-read bonnie lass, who if she might have seen blood and suffering it was only in a book. A delicate, innocent creature.

"I'll not think ill of you," he assured her in a solemn tone of voice, holding back laughter.

Not only was it Lizzie that he has never really seen, but it was perhaps also Lizzie that has never had a chance to exist. Now that she has lost her memory, something was missing, yet, something was restored. He thought that she had lost the time that she deserved having, that she had lost many carefree days which were stolen from her, and replaced with weird encounters, treacherous deals, violent fights, tears and blood mixed together, nigh interchangeable.

Maybe the least he could do, or in fact the only good thing he could do to justify (to some extent) what he was doing (_yes, let's play a noble man, shan't we now, _he could not help to observe sardonically) would be enabling her to live her life as it might have been if she had never fell from that fort in Port Royal...

"No?" She looked at him searchingly, embarrassingly finding herself quietly wishing for what she just said she regrets doing.

"No," said Jack, a roguish smile flickering across his lips. "In fact," he started, brushing a lock of her hair behind her ear, and noticing contentedly that she shivered lightly in response, "you did not _let_ me kiss you, Lizzie."

Elizabeth arched her eyebrow, trying to remain serious, although she could not help but smile at his... At his words? His smiles? His gestures? No, not really. She just felt like smiling just from the act of looking at him. Not at anything that he was doing, but simply at him. She pondered over the thought for a moment.

"I kissed you, because I wanted to, and I don't need a permission to do what I want to do," he slid his fingers down her neck, and rested his hand on her shoulder.

She stared at him in wonder for a moment, until very quietly, all of a sudden she said: "I feel as if I have known you forever."

"Is that so," answered Jack with a half-smirk, not sure how he actually felt about that statement.

"Yes," she said cautiously, and he could sense that something was happening in her mind at the moment.

"Ah," a glimpse of mischief in his eyes caught Elizabeth's attention. "Then," he leaned towards her, "it seems to plead your initial constraints invalid, aye?"

"Jack," she said softly before his lips met hers.

"What is it, luv," he whispered huskily, staring at her almost impatiently.

"How did you escape off that island?" She asked as calmly as she could, trying to concentrate properly on what she was saying instead of focusing on the warmth radiating from his body.

Jack's eyes widened in half-surprise, and half-amusement at her insistence. _Ah. Lizzie. _He should have remembered that feature of her personality.

"Alright. I will tell ye that, luv," he said with a sigh, and she smiled triumphantly. "But ye will go to sleep right after, otherwise ye're not coming on board tomorrow," he threatened,"or today, as it were," he added, making himself more comfortable on the bed, leaning his back against the wall.

Elizabeth laughed, and laid down in his embrace, resting her head on his chest.

He had a brief, frightening impression that it was all a dream, that this was not really happening. Lizzie. Elizabeth. Talking to him. Smiling at him. Nestling up against him. Placing her hand over his heart...

His heart.

His eyes involuntarily travelled to the spot by the window, where the keys were still laying on the floor, where Elizabeth accidentally had dropped them. A small key, that probably went to the door. And the other key. _That_ key.

_So she left the chest, took the key, and went to Tortuga... Interesting... _He narrowed his eyes, but then scolded himself quickly for such a devious ordering of events.

Elizabeth closed her eyes waiting for Jack to continue his story. It felt so wonderful to be near him, but she was slightly terrified by the impact that he had on her. She did not know why, but she felt as if she owed him something... Maybe it was because he had taken care of her right after that accident... Or maybe it was because he was taking her on his ship, and...

She shuddered, as it suddenly dawned on her what she was actually up to. Firstly, she had kissed him, after having known him for one... well... almost two days. Secondly, she was going to sail away with him on his ship (will she be an only woman there...?), and that too after having known him for two... three days. _What am I doing? If I get myself in trouble there will be really nobody else to blame for it but me._

Still, she found constant solace in his arms. Surreptitiously, she inhaled his scent, wild, sweet, intoxicating, familiar... Familiar? It intrigued her. Why did it seem familiar to her? She began thinking about it, but while she was thinking, she suddenly felt the drowsiness taking over her, and in no time she softly drifted off into her sleep.

Deep in thought himself, Jack at last snapped back into the reality, remembering that he promised to finish the story. He pulled Elizabeth closer to him, and looked at her, and then he noticed that she was already asleep.

He wrinkled his forehead as he watched her in her sleep. So peaceful, innocent; unaware of... He was not sure anymore whether what he was doing was right or wrong. He came to think that it was not entirely wrong. However, neither could it be entirely right. Could it.

Jack ran his hand across Elizabeth's face. It was becoming more and more complicated. He doubted whether he had any intention of telling her the truth anymore. Maybe it was best to wait. Just wait until she remembers... _and hoping that she will not remember, aye?_ _Right._

He leaned down, and brushed his lips against hers. She stirred in her sleep ever so slightly, nestling her head into his chest even more. No doubt she felt safe with him. If she only knew... He felt disgusted with himself. He was literally seducing her, he was taking advantage of her state of mind, of her... attraction to him... Attraction. What did she feel towards him? What _had_ she felt towards him? Why had she come to Tortuga? Could she possibly...

He stroked her hair, half-absent-mindedly sifting her loose, brown, gold locks through his fingers. And what if she really had come to find him? If she had wanted to find him? Would it be enough of a justification for his actions?

The justification. The justification for concealing somebody's past, for lying, for – he glanced at the key – condemning somebody to the most grim fate, taking away the possibility of braking said fate. The justification. For every word being a lie. And being true, simultaneously. The justification...

He kissed her lips very lightly, and snuggled his face into her hair.

...his words whispered, muffled, inaudible...

In her sleep, Elizabeth heard somebody telling her that he loved her. And she regretted in the morning that it was only a dream.

* * *

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?" Said Bootstrap Bill Turner, climbing up to the helm. 

"As always," came a blank reply from the man standing at the helm of the _Flying Dutchman_. "Or rather... as never."

"Have you thought of what I had told you, William?" Inquired Bill Turner squinting through the darkness.

"Yes," the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ smiled bitterly. "Fountain of Youth. Sounds promising. Except that without a map even a senseless legend cannot be proved right or wrong."

"It ain't senseless," said "Bootstrap" in a serious tone of voice. "It is true. And, "he hesitated to make a better effect with his next words, "we have the map."

Will finally turned to face him. "We have the map?" He asked disbelievingly.

"Well," Bill Turner smiled faintly, "we do... almost".

"Almost?" Will raised his eyebrows. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I know who has it," said "Bootstrap" with a smile.

Will gave him a questioning look.

"Jack," said Bill Turner. "Jack Sparrow. We just have to find him. I'm sure he'll help us find the Fountain, and bring you back to life."


	16. Chapter 16

A/N: _**My dear reviewers, thank you very much! You are amazing:)**_

Yes, I know. I promised setting sail in this chapter, but... unfortunately... complications, so to speak, ensued...

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 16**

"Master Gibbs!" Shouted Jack in a demanding tone of voice, when he finally stepped on the deck of the _Black Pearl_ in the early afternoon.

Finally...

Because he could not really make himself leave Elizabeth that morning. When he had woken up, she was already awake. She was staring at him, and smiling faintly. Her head was resting on his shoulder, and their faces were mere inches from each other's. When he had opened his eyes, her eyes immediately locked with his.

They had exchanged neither any morning greetings, nor purposeless did-you-sleep-well inquiries. They were just looking at each other, and at the moment nothing else had mattered.

He had thought about all these days, and nights which she must have spent alone, in the darkness, in some lonesome place, with nobody there, with nothing there, nothing to hold on to, nothing to love, nothing to hate. Emptiness. Coldness. Apathy.

Oh, yes. The grimer her life had seemed to be, the better. _Just make it grim enough, as ghastly as possible, dreadfully solitary, and then just put your-colorful-self in the story. Your-talking-self, your-grinning-self, your-story-telling-self, your-lying-self. Ah. Lying. Let us not forget about that one._

_No. No. Forget that one. Forget it. Immediately. Already. Already? Aye, already. Almost already. Soon. Soon enough. Too soon. Never. Now. _

_Now._

"Aye, Cap'n!" Exclaimed Gibbs rather cheerfully, shaking Jack off his thoughts.

"Have ye happened to think of-," started Jack, but was rather inconsiderately interrupted.

"It's taken care of, Cap'n," cut in Gibbs in a ceremonious tone of voice.

Jack shot him a suspicious look, wrinkling his forehead. "Do ye mean-"

"It's taken care of," Gibbs broke in again, clearly being quite proud of himself at the moment.

"Ah," muttered Jack still eyeing his first mate hesitantly. "And if ye were to elaborate on that?" He asked cautiously, narrowing his eyes.

Gibbs took a furtive look around to make sure that there was nobody within the hearing range. He stepped closer to Jack, and said in a low tone of voice:

"Can bring Elizabeth aboard. Nobody will spill a word," he added with a knowing wink.

Jack looked up to the sky, looked about the deck, and then back at Gibbs.

"And how is that?" He asked doubtfully.

"It's taken care of, Cap'n," repeated Gibbs, straightening up, and winking.

Jack rolled his eyes. "What is it that ye told them?" He asked somewhat impatiently.

"Aye," Gibbs nodded leaning closer. "I told 'em a story that will keep 'em quiet."

"What story," inquired Jack plainly, not sure what to expect.

"Aye," Gibbs narrowed his eyes smilingly, and cautiously glanced around once again. "I've told 'em," he said, enlivening his words with gestures, "that Elizabeth's been given a power to lead us to the Fountain of Youth, but in order to do that her mind's been cleaned up," Gibbs made a violent shuffling gesture with his hand, "from all memories. And whoever brings about any memory will be struck by a sudden lightning coming from the impeccably blue sky," he bellowed in a solemn tone of voice, looking up at the sky, causing Jack to suspiciously look up to the sky as well. "And die at an instant." Gibbs' eyes were shining with real fascination ignited by his own creativity. "Plus," he added in a passionate whisper, "we'll be unable to locate the Fountain, if such an occurrence should happen," he concluded rather ominously, and fell silent, looking at Jack expectantly.

"Am I to understand that this was an essence of the aforementioned care that's been taken?" Asked Jack with slight skepticism.

Gibbs seemed offended. "They'll neither talk to 'er, nor about 'er. It's certain," he stated firmly.

Jack sighed. "Alright. Let's stick to that... prediction," he added in a low tone of voice.

"There is one thing," put in Gibbs hesitantly.

"Ah," acknowledged Jack triumphantly.

"I'm 'fraid that _he_ didn't quite-"

"Ah," Jack cut him off with a half-sneer. "Not caring to spare me taking care of that one, aye?"

* * *

Elizabeth slumped onto the bed with a sigh. She did not feel like doing anything. Somewhat alarmed, she half-realized that the only thing that she felt like doing right now was waiting for Jack to return. 

And it was fairly ridiculous.

Similarly ridiculous to what she had been doing in the morning, when she had woken up feeling a rather pleasing, but puzzling tickling sensation on her neck. She had opened her eyes, and seen Jack, or rather Jack's face buried into her neck. He was breathing steadily, and his breath had felt warm against her neck. Warm, and... disturbing. She laid motionlessly, listening to him breathing. She had listened for a long time, as if she was listening to music. But it was more than music. It was more intoxicating, more indescribably fascinating...

Elizabeth rolled her eyes at her own musings. She was actually finding the process of breathing... fascinating?! No. Not the process of breathing.

She had reached out, and run her hand down Jack's arm. The fabric of his shirt was thinner than it looked, and she could almost feel his skin through it... She had drawn her hand back quickly. Her hand trembled. Trembled ridiculously.

Unfairly.

When he had opened her eyes she was wondering what will he say. But he had said nothing, and maybe it was exactly what she had expected him to say... They had looked at each other in silence, and after a while he had begun stroking her hair with the back of his hand. She had closed her eyes afraid that they may give her away. Give away what an effect he had have on her.

She was laying with her eyes closed, feeling her heart beat faster, ans faster, as she was half-expecting a kiss... They were so close... But he had not kissed her.

Soon, she had opened her eyes, only to find his eyes fixed on her as before. But there was something sad in his eyes.

Oddly, she had a strange impression that she _remembered _the sadness in his eyes. But how could she?

She had wanted to ask him... But what could she ask him? _Why your eyes look sad? He wouldn't answer that anyway. _For the first time since she had met him, it had crossed her mind that he was not telling her everything... She was not sure. She had had no idea what could it be. She had just felt that there was something vexing him.

She had leaned towards him, and with a small smile had kissed him on the cheek. Contentedly, she had noticed a familiar glimpse of roguishness flashing in his eyes. And the sadness was gone.

"Do you think, luv," he had whispered with a smirk flickering across his lips, "that I'm that kind of man to be satisfied with that kind of kiss?"

"Probably not," she had pouted with a smile, but before his lips had reached hers, she had slipped off the bed, laughing.

* * *

Jack headed below deck, lost in thought, lost in memories of the morning. (_Fancy to have memories, aye?)._

"Oi," he muttered, as due to not watching his step, his head accidentally struck the beam.

Oddly, he felt indecently happy, just remembering holding Elizabeth in his arms throughout the night, stealing some innocent kisses while she was sleeping (indecently innocent, indeed), caressing her, stroking her hair...

He felt infantile. He has never felt like that about anybody before. It was like a whirlpool, dragging him in. With certain frustration, he came to realize that he hardly cared about anything else but her anymore. It was terrifying. And wonderful. And terrifying. Wonderful. Terrifying. Won-

"Jack. Welcome back. Again," said Barbossa with a wide smile.

Jack grimaced, and stiffly looked around. "I believe this is my cabin," he said, glancing at Barbossa disgustedly.

Barbossa laughed drily. "I almost thought ye'r goin' to stay on land," he observed, a sneer flickering across his face.

"Ah. I must disappoint ye, then, Hector," said Jack, taking a place at the table, and unfurling some papers taken from his desk.

"Yes, I know," said Barbossa with a knowing smile.

Pretending not to pay any attention to him, Jack went on studying the papers before him.

Barbossa looked at Jack in silence for a while, before he decided to continue.

"So we're goin' to have a guest on board," he said, narrowing his eyes.

"Aye," replied Jack disinterestedly, not even looking up at his interlocutor.

Barbossa's eyes glistened with sarcasm. "Miss Swann."

"Gibbs was to informed everyone, and so I believe he did," answered Jack blankly, staring intently on some chart, and drawing something on it.

"Yes," nodded Barbossa. "But no," he interrupted himself. "Wait", he said, as if intensely trying to remember something. "It's not Miss Swann. It's.. _Mrs. Turner_. Ain't that right?" He stared at Jack expectantly.

Jack said nothing.

"Don't get me wron', Jack," went on Barbossa, narrowing his eyes in an evil smile. "I just want to make sure that our agreement over the Fountain is unchanged."

"I can't remember changing it," stated Jack drily, taking one of the papers in his hand, and looking as if he was reading it.

"Good," smiled Barbossa. "An' I may assure ye that as long as our agreement stays intact, I shall not care whose wife's reputation ye're tarnishing in yer cabin," he said grinning.

Jack put the paper away, and finally looked at Barbossa.

"I hope that ye do remember," started Jack sharply, staring at him intently, "that yer bloody chart will lead ye to neither the Fountain, nor the treasure, unless first ye reach the Ghost Sea. And ye cannot reach the bloody Ghost Sea without the bloody map that, in case it's recently escaped yer memory, happens to be in my possession."

"I know that," replied Barbossa defensively. "No reason for gettin' angry with me, Jack," he added with a grin.

"No reason for makin' me gettin' angry either", observed Jack unsmilingly.

* * *

Elizabeth was almost ready. She folded all her clothes, and put the hairpins, and other small objects in a box for odds and ends that Jack has given to her the day before. 

With a sigh, she picked up the two keys from the floor. She looked at them expectantly, as if they could offer her some kind of answer. Although she did not ask any questions. Was she not interested in the past anymore?...

She put the strange-looking key into the box. Then, she wanted to put the ordinarily-looking key to the box as well, but, all of a sudden, she retracted her hand, noticing something that she has not noticed before.

The key was attached to a key ring. Nothing unusual about that. However... when she looked at it closely, she noticed that it was not an ordinary key ring... It was something else... Two key rings... One metal, and thin, and the other...

With trembling fingers she unhooked the key from the key rings, and then she separated the two key rings from one another, and examined the other key ring alone.

It was gold, and fairly thick, and it had letters engraved on it... The letters... E... &... W...

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "This is a wedding ring," she whispered to herself disbelievingly, paling.


	17. Chapter 17

A/N: Thank you for all the reviews!!

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 17**

_Married... Married... How come married... What would I be doing here... Alone... If... No... Can't be... And if?... _Elizabeth was pacing around the room, clutching the ring in her hand. She did not know what to think. On the one hand, it seemed obvious. But on the other...

_Is using one's wedding ring as a key chain a common practice? Why would I displace it like that... I must have had a reason... I must... _She sat on the edge of the bed, biting her lower lip nervously. She has finally discovered something tangible about the past. And she was not happy. She was just not happy.

She opened her hand, and looked at the ring again. The "E" was for Elizabeth. What did the "W" stood for? And where was "W"? Why "W" was not looking for her? Why was she travelling without "W"?

And why had she attached her wedding ring to a key, instead of wearing it on her finger?

And why was she... being angry with this ring?...

_Angry?! _To her own astonishment, she had to admit that, strangely enough, it was true. She was upset with the ring. She was angry with it.

She felt cheated.

She tried to think really hard. How many names began with "W"? Surely not many, or at least not too many. Maybe if she would concentrate hard enough, the name would come to her... And she would remember the name...

She stared at the ring, and then she suddenly closed it in her hand.

The trouble was... did she _want_ to remember it?

_Of course I want to remember it! Of course I do. Of course..._

She heard the voices coming through the open window. She felt the wind on her face. The day was windy. And sunny. A perfect day for setting sail...

Elizabeth's eyes flew wide open. _He will be here soon._

She jumped off the bed, and nervously spun around. She did not know what to do. She was scared. Although probably without a reason. She tried to figure out why was she scared without a reason, and then it dawned on her.

_He won't take me with him right now. _It surprised her, how much this suspicion, this... realization hurt her.

_He will not take a married woman on a journey... Nobody would. Either because of anticipated troubles, or out of respect, or... out of the lack of respect..._

"_W"... Has he left me? Have I left him? Did he die? _If he was dead... using the wedding ring as a key-chain seemed just inappropriate. If she left him, why would she keep the ring at all? If he left her... Somehow she considered this possibility as the most plausible. But she was still confused, and she could not organize her thoughts properly. She could not even focus on figuring out the name. The thought that dominated her mind was exclusively concerned with Jack not taking her with him on his ship.

_Why do I care that much. Why do I care? I should care about the truth, about the past... It's so close. _She unclenched her fist once again, and looked at the ring. _So close, and... the closer it is, the more I don't care... How strange... How wrong...! How-_

_He will say that I should stay and look for my husband. He will say it, because he is a good person, a good man-_

All of a sudden Elizabeth cringed. _A good man. _Oddly, the expression evoked in her mind the sight of Jack's eyes... Of that sad look in his eyes... Accidentally, perhaps. She tried again. _A good man._ The same. The same image. That was very weird. _A good man. _She could see him looking at her sadly. _What a puzzling association..._

The knocking on the door shook Elizabeth off her thoughts. She looked at the door horrified. What was she going to do? What would she tell him? How would she tell him?

The door knob moved, pressed.

And then something snapped in her mind. _But I don't have to tell him, do I?..._

Jack walked into the room, his eyes twinkling. "Ready, Lizzie?" He asked, closing the door behind him.

"Yes!" She exclaimed cheerfully. _I don't have to tell him. As simple as that._

Taking two quick steps, she got to the cabinet, and indifferently threw the ring inside the box, careful not to show what it was, hurriedly pushed the lid down, and turned to Jack, who just came closer to her from behind.

Her smile was slightly nervous.

"Is everything alright, luv?" asked Jack studying her face interestedly.

"Yes, of course," she nodded as if surprised by his question.

He looked at her attentively. Her eyes were shining. Could it be because-

His thoughts were cut off by her lips pressed against his. But she drew back quickly. "I forgot that in the morning," she explained with a glint of mischief in her eyes that he has remembered quite well. She wanted to walk past him, but it was of course naive to expect that he would leave it at that.

"I forgot something too," he grinned, clasping her in a tight embrace.

"Oh, really?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Really," whispered Jack with a smirk, brushing his lips against hers frustratingly lightly.

Elizabeth wanted to turn it into a kiss, but Jack tilted back his head.

"Me hat," he said pointing to something that she could not see.

She stared at him, baffled, until following his gaze, she finally turned around, and saw his hat on the chair by the window.

She narrowed her eyes, and looked back at him in mock-indignation, but he prevented her from making a comment by adding in a low tone of voice, smirking:

"And me girl."

A ghost of a smile flickered across Elizabeth's face. Jack leaned towards her, smiling, but she place a hand against his lips.

"Oh. And where is she?" She asked with a glimpse of playfulness in her eyes.

Jack kissed her hand before taking it away from his lips. "Right here," he grinned, pulling her closer.

"Why are you taking me with you, Jack?" She asked all of a sudden in a very serious tone of voice, gazing intensely into his dark eyes.

Jack blinked, only slightly surprised by the change of a topic. _Never a predictable one, aye. _He smirked to himself.

"And why are _you_ going with me, darling?" He asked, toying with a lock of hair hair, and looking deeply into her eyes.

Elizabeth was caught off guard by the question. A good question, indeed. A very good question. Especially now that she has found...

She drifted off in her thoughts to the ring again. How was it possible, that more than to recover her past (and herself, in a way, too), she wanted to leave with him? She was going to trade a chance for discovering who she was. She was going to trade that chance for...

He leaned closer, and gently rested his cheek against hers. "Why are you going with me, Lizzie?" he whispered into her ear. There was something demanding in his voice, as if, all of a sudden, he decided that he wanted to know the answer. That the answer really mattered.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around his neck. She shivered, feeling the warmth of his body transmitting onto hers, filling her with strange quiescence, making her feel safe, and complete, and... found.

"I think I've been looking for you," she muttered, her lips brushing incidentally against his ear.

Her reply startled him. He cautiously drew back to look into her eyes, but she kept them closed.

_Lizzie... _Without a warning, he cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her feverishly on the mouth.

The wicked kiss left her breathless. "I guess... it was... _your_ answer...," she said in a faltering whisper.

"No." Jack smiled quizzically. "Only a small part of it."

Elizabeth looked up at him, and laughed.

* * *

_She must be very sad right now. Very lonely. It must be hard for her... As it is for me. _Will sighed.

It was unimaginable how wrong it all went. How awry. He leaned against the rail, staring blankly at the waves.

If it would be really possible to lift that curse... He did not want his father to know how much he held on to that hope, how much he wished it to be true. It seemed just so naive.

Nonetheless, he ardently wished it to be true, dreaming of going back to her, going back to life.

He wondered what Elizabeth was doing right now. Where was she? She had said that she would stay in Port Royal. Was she able to keep her father's house? Did she have any money? Did she have to go to work?

It suddenly occurred to him that she must have had many problems with which she was left to deal alone. But maybe she had some friends who would help her. Perhaps her father left her some money, and she was probably able to keep the house after all.

Unlike he, she could at least enjoy the everyday life that he has always valued so highly, and which they could have shared, if it was not for what had happened...

He just hoped that she was not spending all of her time missing him, and thinking about the past.

* * *

Elizabeth looked at the _Black Pearl_ with admiration twinkling in her eyes. She was sincerely amazed by the ship's beauty, her grandeur, her dignity, her dreariness, in a way, too. The ship seemed to be cut out from a dream, brought here from another, half-real world, made out of nigh tangible fabric of magic. She felt attached to it from the first sight.

Jack observed her intently out of the corner of his eye, for the fear of her memory being triggered by the sight of the _Pearl_. To his relief, he quickly realized that she did not have any dangerous recollections. Clearly, she seemed to be seeing the ship for the first time.

They walked on deck, where they were soon approached by Mr. Gibbs, who was waiting for them impatiently, fairly curious to meet Elizabeth.

"Welcome aboard, Miss," said Gibbs courteously with a smile.

"Thank you," Elizabeth smiled at him, her hand furtively reaching for Jack's hand, as if she wanted to make sure that she was not alone.

"Thank you Mr. Gibbs," said Jack, looking at him meaningfully, trying to make him stop staring at Elizabeth in an exaggerated manner.

Gibbs stared at Elizabeth very intently, and interestedly, quite amazed by the phenomenon of her amnesia. It seemed incredible that she would not remember anything, and anybody, and that even the sight of familiar surroundings, and people would not make her remember.

It struck him, however, that she did not appear sad, or depressed. She did not look like somebody who suffered from a serious injury, or took part in an accident. She seemed quite well, and happy. Actually, strangely enough, she seemed to be even more happy than he has ever seen her to be before.

And he was glad to see her in such a good state. It meant that they will be able to tell her everything soon. She seemed perfectly capable of acknowledging her past, and her present, and the grim truth about her husband. He wondered briefly why Jack had not told her everything yet. But perhaps he had reasons not to.

"And how do ye like the _Black Pearl, _Miss?" Asked Gibbs, indicating the ship with his hand.

"Oh, I like it very much," answered Elizabeth smilingly.

Gibbs nodded his head approvingly. "And how did ye like Tortuga, Miss?" he inquired with polite interest.

Jack rolled his eyes at him.

"I quite liked it there," replied Elizabeth hesitantly. "It is a very... unique town, but it seems rather friendly," she said kindly.

"Aye," agreed Gibbs with a smile. "And how do ye like-"

"We'd like to thank you Master Gibbs," cut in Jack stiffly. "And now if ye'd be as kind as to take these," he began handing Gibbs the boxes with Elizabeth's clothes, and other belongings, "below deck..."

Gibbs had some difficulties holding all the packages, but he tried to keep his balance. Unfortunately, due to the movement caused by the ship beginning to roll on the waves, he swayed slightly, and dropped one of the smaller boxes.

As the box hit the deck, it cracked open, and various small objects fell out from it. Among hair-pins, and hair-nets, there were two keys, and also something else, something gold that rolled out from the box straight under Jack's feet.

He bent down to pick it up.

"No!" Elizabeth suddenly exclaimed, trying to pick up the small object herself.

But it was too late. Jack already had it in his hand. He looked at Elizabeth curiously. She averted her eyes. He opened his hand.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N: _**Thank you for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 18**

Jack looked at the ring in his hand, and then shifted his eyes to Elizabeth. She looked at him as if expecting him to shoot her or do something else, equally violent. Fear in her eyes puzzled him.

"What is that, luv?" he asked innocently, knowing perfectly well what it bloody was.

She eyed him for a moment, as if judging the sincerity of his question.

"Nothing," she said quickly, deciding to play along. If it was a game. And even if it wasn't.

They looked at each other without blinking for a moment that seemed longer than it probably should be in order to not seem suspicious.

"Well, it's a ring," all of a sudden helpfully offered Gibbs.

Both Jack and Elizabeth immediately turned their heads, and glared at him.

Gibbs blinked, baffled.

"Mr. Cotton!" shouted Jack, spotting the elder sailor timidly passing by. "Help Mr. Gibbs carry these below."

Cotton approached, and gave Elizabeth a welcoming nod. She forced a smile, deep in thought, preoccupied with finding a solution to the situation.

_He must have noticed... He must know what it is... And he must know that I know that he knows, and still..._

A colorful parrot landed softly on Cotton's shoulder, catching Elizabeth's attention. The parrot tilted its head to the side, and seemed to be looking at Elizabeth quite intently. Elizabeth stared at the parrot. A parrot. The parrot. That parrot.

"_I can't breath!"_ The words resounded in Elizabeth's head, and then she saw the parrot flying up to the sky over the crowd of people, and...But she only saw it in her mind's eye, as in the reality, the parrot was still sitting on the sailor's shoulder.

Suddenly, the parrot screeched: "Don't kill me! Don't kill me!"

Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise.

Jack's eyes widened in dismay.

"Come on! Snap to! Go!" he waved his hands at Gibbs, and Cotton. "Off ye go."

Finally managing to gather all the packages (except for the small box and its content that still laid scattered on the floor), Gibbs, and Cotton hurriedly headed below deck.

Jack stepped closer to Elizabeth, who stood transfixed, following Gibbs, Cotton, and the parrot with her bewildered gaze.

"Lizzie..." Jack started quietly, and she looked at him immediately.

"A talking parrot," she said with a small smile.

Jack blinked. _That's it?_

"Aye," he gasped more than said. "A talking parrot", he repeated in a hollow tone of voice, relieved. "Lizzie..." he raised his closed hand, as if he wanted to hand something to her.

He began opening his hand, when she suddenly put her hand on top of his, stopping him in mid-action.

Jack gave her a hesitant look.

"It's a key-chain," she said in a low, but resolute tone of voice, gazing intently into his eyes.

"Are you certain, luv?" he asked after a pause.

Elizabeth nodded her head slowly. As she blinked, he could see the tears sparkling in her eyes, but she managed to hold them back.

He put his arms around her, and held her close. He felt dull ache in his head, a strange pressure building up. _It's begun._ _Her tears. Her crying. Her feeling guilty. _And it was his fault. It could only be his fault.

Elizabeth nestled her head into his neck, and said in a quivering, stubborn whisper: "It's a key-chain, Jack."

"I know," he muttered tightening his embrace. "I know."

He shuddered when she placed one, soft kiss on his neck, resting her head against his shoulder. He felt the ring in his hand. He squeezed it so hard that it almost cut through his skin. Maybe it should. Maybe then it would bring him back to the reality.

But what was the reality? The only reality that he could think of (that he _wanted _to think of, and therefore the only one that he intended to think of) was that brave, beautiful, invincible, vulnerable girl in his arms, her hair brushing against his skin, her hands around him, and that something that he did not dare to name. (Yet...?...) A feeling emitting from her eyes when she looked at him, from her voice when she talked to him, from her touch...

_Ah. Dream on, ye fool. _Whatever she was thinking, or feeling right now was bound to be gone, replaced by hatred, turned into disaster.

Nonetheless now, she-

She was kissing her way along his neck, and his jaw line, until she reached his lips, and kissed him hesitantly, desperately, tenderly.

He caught her lips in between his possessively.

_Just one more day. Just one more day_, was the new leitmotiv of his thoughts that ruled out "I will tell her tomorrow." The meaning was similar. But the form - less threatening.

And she lied to him... She had found that ring, and did not tell him, did not want to tell him, did not want him to know. The realization tasted so sweet... or was it rather the kiss? He could not tell. _Just one more day. _He deepened the kiss. Her lips tasted sweet, like some tropical fruits, intoxicating like rum, delicate like sweet water from a mountain creek. _Just one more-_

"Hate to interrupt," sneered Barbossa, suddenly appearing next to them.

They broke the kiss. Elizabeth cringed at the sound. _"What's yer name, Missy?" _She grimaced, hearing the same voice in her head that she was hearing right now. She has noticed lately something that appeared to her to be a very odd phenomenon. She heard words, and sentences, shreds of the past meaninglessly circulating in her head, being intriguingly spoken in voices of the people around her. Jack's, obviously, but also that Mr. Gibbs', that parrot's, and now... that man. It seemed as if she could remember some words, but not voices, and therefore the voices from the present reality kept incorporating themselves into her thoughts, into the debris of her memories, pulling her yet into more confusion.

She finally turned her head, and saw him. And judging from Jack's stern facial expression she guessed who that man was. Jack had told her about the mutiny. And about the map. And the chart. He was telling her everything, apparently.

"Just wanted to welcome a new guest aboard," stated Barbossa giving Elizabeth something that might have been considered a friendly smile.

Jack was annoyed. He did not want _him_ to see... He was going to at least pretend that... But it did not matter now. At least Gibbs did not notice anything. Yet...

"Thank you," replied Elizabeth coldly. She was not going to be nice to somebody who had hurt Jack.

"Oh, I see," Barbossa sneered knowingly, deliberately staring at Elizabeth as intensely as possible, seeing out of the corner of his eye Jack watching him intently with silent anger. "He complained about me."

"I don't think that telling the truth may be classified as complaining," said Elizabeth in a resolute tone of voice.

"Indeed," grinned Barbossa. "But incidentally it's usually exactly the truth that we want to complain about."

"Let me show you your cabin, Lizzie," broke in Jack, finding the subject of the conversation decidedly unpleasant.

Barbossa followed them with his gaze as they walked away. He turned around to walk away himself but then he noticed the items scattered on the deck. He bent down with his eyes narrowed. He examined the hair-pins, he grimaced at the hair-net, and sighed at the small door key. And then he noticed the other key. He took it in his hand, straightened up, and looked at it interestedly, but also confusedly, as if trying to remember something. And suddenly he remembered, and his eyes widened slightly. _The key..._ He sneered to himself. _Always better to have more than one option. _He put the key in his pocket, and shuffled away.

* * *

After placing Elizabeth in a cabin located door to door with his, Jack reluctantly went to the helm. The _Black Pearl _left the port of Tortuga late in the afternoon.

Reluctantly... He could not believe that he actually went to the helm with reluctance. But the truth was, that he would rather stay with her... a little longer... If there was just one more day... He tried to convince himself that it was really the case, that he really intended to finish it, finish this comedy and tell her...

He looked at the ring blankly. He still had it in his hand. He did not know what to do with it. He did not know what he _should _do with it. Apart from throwing it overboard nothing came to his mind. Maybe he should just put it somewhere... A drawer... A box... A chest... He cringed. _The chest. The key._

He left the helm to Cotton, and hurriedly went on the deck, where the box with the keys, and other items fell. He squatted down. There were the hair-pins, the small key, a key-chain (the real one...), but... no _the_ key. Where was the key? He did not pick it up... Elizabeth did not pick it up...

Jack sighed. _Bugger._

* * *

"Bored with the helm already?" asked Barbossa when Jack walked into his cabin.

Jack looked at him grimly, and slammed the door shut.

Barbossa grimaced at the noise. "If ye break my door, I'll have to take Captain Quarters, ye be warned."

Barbossa sat at a large desk, perusing through the pile of old maps, and other papers.

Jack approached him, and said in a low, but firm tone of voice: "The key."

Barbossa looked up at him, putting on a surprised look. "What key, Jack?" he asked, blinking.

"The key," repeated Jack, staring at him steadily.

Barbossa kept silent for a moment, looking at his interlocutor with narrowed eyes. "What d'ye need it for?" he asked at last, staggering to his feet.

Jack wrinkled his forehead. "It's not yours."

Barbossa laughed drily. "Oh, yes. Let's talk about ownership, Jack. Legal rights, and such," he said with a knowing smile.

"Why did ye take it?" asked Jack patiently, trying to sound rather blank. But there was something menacing about this situation that he did not like. He did not like it at all.

"Why d'ye want it back?" retorted Barbossa.

"If ye won't give it back, then ye can take yer bloody chart to hell along with yer bloody self, I don't care. I'll manage without it," said Jack seriously, a sarcastic smile flickering across his face.

Barbossa grimaced. "Ye've developed such a nasty speaking habits, Jack," he said with mock-disgust. "I just hope ye ain't talkin' like that to yer forgetful beloved", he smiled in an answer to the perilous way in which Jack was looking at him. "Yet, ye see, havin' that key makes the whole Fountain of Youth affair somehow," he hesitated briefly, as if pondering over a right word, "less appealing, perhaps?"

"Ye don't know where the chest is," said Jack coldly in a blank tone of voice. He felt even colder than he sounded.

"Aye!" exclaimed Barbossa nodding his head in agreement. "That's why I'm _not _resignin' from our journey," he said with a short laugh. "Yet. But I just try to show ye that threatenin' me is less than reasonable. Besides," he took a few steps forward towards Jack, lowering his voice to a scratchy whisper. "I think yer reaction is rather... exaggerated. _Insincerely _exaggerated," he added with a sneer. "Just forget about it, Jack. Forgetting is sometimes a good think, ye know," he grinned.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the reviews:)**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 19**

Elizabeth unpacked all the boxes, and sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh. She looked around the cabin. It was rather commodious and cozy. The bed, a table, two chairs, an armchair, two lamps, and even a small bookshelf with some tatty books. But something was missing.

She looked at the door. She knew that he had to go at the helm, but she thought that maybe he will come after a while... But it must have been more than two hours, and he has not come yet. She wanted to go to him, but was not sure whether she could find her way around the ship, and also she thought that perhaps she should not impede him in his captain duties...

Or maybe she did not go, because she was worrying that he may not be coming to her purposefully, because of that ring... The ring... Where...? Oh, yes. He must still have it. Good. She did not want it anyway.

The knock on the door startled her. She smiled subconsciously, and jumped off the bed to open the door as quickly as possible.

"Jack!" She threw her arms around his neck, and clung to him with all her body.

"'Lizbeth," he gasped embracing her, surprised by the feverishness of her reaction; overjoyed; guilty.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

Jack shut his eyes with a grimace. _She _was sorry. Unbelievable.

And he should have said something. He should have said that _he_ was sorry (was he, then?...), that it was his fault, that he was to blame, that he had lied, that he had lied about everything, everything except when he had been talking to her, and looking at her, he was not lying then, even though there was the one underlying lie that was present at all times, but even though it was all a one, endless lie, he had never been more truthful in his life. And even though his every word was a lie, all these lies were true, there was more truth in those lies than in the true words that he had ever said to anybody.

Because when he spoke to her, he was always telling the truth. Because there was only one truth. Because every word that he spoke to her contained that truth, every lie was filled with that truth, every lie was caused by that truth.

And there was no way of telling her all that right now. He was just too tired.

Thinking about it always made him feel tired.

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Lizzie," he said quietly into her hair.

He looked up at him, smiling faintly, and pulled him inside the cabin, sitting him down on the bed next to her.

"I brought you this... back," he muttered, placing the box from the deck on her lap.

"Thank you," she nodded indifferently.

"There's one thing..." Jack glanced at her hesitantly.

Elizabeth looked at him with calm interest, with such tenderness in her eyes that it hurt him... Or rather... No, it did not hurt him. Maybe it hurt him that it did not hurt him?

"The key... That... strange key..."

"What about it?" asked Elizabeth, leaning towards him, simply because she wanted to hear him better, since his voice was gradually becoming more quiet.

"Ah... Well... Cotton-"

"That sailor with the parrot?" cut in Elizabeth.

"Aye," Jack nodded. "So he... he collects old keys, ye know, and he just wanted to ask whether that'd be alright with ye if he kept that key?" Jack grimaced slightly, before daring to glance at Elizabeth. The story was rather pathetic, but at least Cotton was unable to deny it...

"I guess that's fine," she said with a small smile shrugging her shoulders. "I don't even know where it goes to, anyway," Elizabeth sighed, looking thoughtfully into the distance. "And he can always give it back to me, should I, by any chance, remember what to do with it, right?" Jack nodded his head in awkward agreement. "So I guess it's all right", she smiled.

_Ye're such a bastard, mate._

"I'm glad you came," she said under her breath, putting her hand over his.

He wanted to smirk, but then remembered something. He opened his hand, and put the wedding ring on the top of the box on Elizabeth's lap.

She looked at it blankly.

"I thought I should give it back to you," he said with an unintentional sigh.

Elizabeth stared at the ring in silence, and just when Jack was almost going to leave thinking that she was perhaps having second thoughts of some kind, she turned to him abruptly, and asked almost playfully:

"Can we trade?"

He blinked, baffled. "Trade?" asked Jack, taken aback by the question. Taken aback by the fact that he did not actually understand the question, and it was not something that was happening to him very often.

"Yes. Trade," Elizabeth took the wedding ring in her hand, put the box away from her lap, and moved closer to Jack. He looked at her attentively. "I will give you this ring, and... you give me one of yours."

Jack chuckled. "That's... very interesting... proposal," he muttered, blinking. _One day ye will pay for it all. But until then..._

"If you don't-" Elizabeth started quietly, but Jack cut her off.

"Which one do ye want, luv?" he asked raising his hands, and spreading his fingers, so that she could see all the rings.

She laughed, and went on examining his rings. There were many of them. Some of them thick, some of them thin, gold, and silver, with blue gems, with green jewels, with red stones... It was difficult to decide.

"I don't want to take your favorite one, or something," said Elizabeth with a timid smile, looking up at him.

"You can take any one you want, darling," grinned Jack, tilting his head to the side, and watching Elizabeth with his dark eyes intently.

She felt his intense gaze fixed upon her, but strangely enough, it did not embarrassed or irritated her. On the contrary, it made her feel visible, important, and... beautiful?... Yes, she did feel beautiful when he looked at her. She did not exactly know why, but there was something in his eyes, some kind of mysterious admiration, some kind of warmth, as if he really cared for her. Of course it was quite obvious that he did care for her, however... what she saw was a different kind of care. Not simply concern, or compassion, or some friendly feelings... Or was she making it all up? When he kissed her, she could feel it not only in the kiss, but in the way he held her, as if he was afraid that she might have run away... as if she was the only thing that he cared for, that he had, that he wanted to have...

And not for the first time she found herself wishing that he loved her. It was an absurd expectation after three-day acquaintance, however... If she could, why could not he...?...

If she could...?... Did it mean that... Did she...

"I like this one," said Elizabeth under her breath, trying to shake off her thoughts. She pointed to a gold ring with a green, gently rounded gemstone.

And what if he just fancied her as a random girl?... Pretty enough to take her along on a long sea journey...

"That's emerald. Good choice," stated Jack matter-of-factly, taking off the ring. He smirked to himself thinking that she actually_ did_ pick his favorite one.

The ring left a pale mark on his finger, and she began to worry for some absurd reason that it might have hurt him, so without even fully registering what she was doing, she reached for his hand, and brushed her fingers gently over the mark.

She noticed that he froze staring at her thoughtfully, but somehow she did not want to let go of his hand. She must have even grasped it tighter, because he smiled amusedly, and leaned towards her, and bringing his face very close to hers, whispered half-seriously:

"I'm afraid, luv, that it might be fairly difficult to place this ring on yer finger if ye keep holding my hands in such a gracefully grave grip."

Elizabeth blinked, as if suddenly snapping back to the reality from the strange world of her decidedly too involving musings. She looked at her hands, and noticed that she did hold (and hold rather firmly) both his hands in hers. It almost surprised her. Similarly to the fact, that she could not really think clearly anymore. Maybe she was exhausted, for some reason, or maybe it was humid in the cabin... She did not know. What she knew was that he still looked at her from the dangerous proximity, and when she shifted her eyes from their hands, and eventually looked up at him, he gazed into her eyes with quizzical solemnity. She found herself staring back hopelessly, unable to move, or speak, transfixed by an overwhelming sense of... bliss.

And she felt as if she has never felt like this before. Has she really? Or has she not? Did it even matter? In any event, the past was a world that she could not reach. It was forgotten. Forgettable? Irretrievable... As for now.

Instead, _now_ there was him. And his eyes. Dark, and alluring. She smiled faintly, and let go of his hands. He took her hand in his, and leisurely ran his fingers over the back of her hand, looking at her closely. They looked at each other for a moment.

"According to the holy Indian scriptures," said Jack in a low tone of voice, looking down at her hand, "emeralds promise good luck, and enhance the well-being," he tried to fit the ring on each of her fingers. But it was too big for her, and the only finger from which it did not slip was her thumb.

"It's beautiful," said Elizabeth looking at the ring closely. "Like your ship," she added with a smile.

Jack shook his head, and smiled quizzically. "Neither is as beautiful as you," he said studying her face thoughtfully.

Elizabeth looked at him, and wanted to say something, but was cut off by the knock on the door. Jack rose to his feet, letting go of her hand, and when he did it she felt as if some part of her disappeared. She sighed, puzzled.

She did not notice who was the person at the door, she only heard that he said something about the wind. Jack closed the door, and she stood up, coming up to him.

"I'll have to-" he started.

"I know," broke in Elizabeth with a small smile. Then she took his hand, put the wedding ring in his palm, and closed his hand over it.

"Traded off," she said in a slightly faltering whisper.

"Do I..." Jack took a deep breath, "have to wear it?" he asked hesitantly.

"It's yours now. You can do with it whatever you want," replied Elizabeth with a broken smile.

He wondered what she was thinking about right now.

"Good," Jack looked at her, but she was looking away at the moment. "Then I won't, since I'm not very fond of key-chains..."

She looked up at him immediately, and he saw a strangely bright smile flickering across her face.

* * *

Jack stood at the helm feeling absolutely awful. Maybe he would have felt less awful, if it was not for all this commotion with Barbossa, and the key. _Commotion!... Commotion, indeed. Commendable wording skills, too. Perfect for commemoration. Bugger._

Or maybe he was exaggerating? Barbossa did not have chest, neither did he know where it was. In fact, nobody knew. Well, Elizabeth must have known. But she did not remember..._ Commotion, indeed. _

_Not an entirely bad one, though. _He tapped his hand on the wheel. _Alright. A definitely bad one, however... not entirely hopeless one. Actually, not a hopeless one at all. He has the key, but he can contemplate it forever, and it still gets him nowhere. Forget him. _

"Jack!" Gibbs' voice shook Jack off his thoughts.

"Aye," answered Jack with a grimace.

"She's quite well, isn't she?" observed Gibbs cheerfully.

Jack shot him a suspicious look. "She quite well what?" he asked drily.

"No, I mean she seems alright, that is, strong enough, so, when are ye planning on tellin' 'er?" The sincere concern in Gibbs' voice was almost irritating.

"Telling her what?" Jack narrowed his eyes, looking out at the ocean, not looking at Gibbs.

Gibbs blinked. "Everything," he replied confusedly.

"Ah," acknowledged Jack blankly.

They kept silent for a moment, until after observing Jack steering the ship in silence for several minutes, Gibbs was suddenly struck by an idea.

"Jack?" he started cautiously.

"What?" asked Jack seemingly disinterestedly. He disliked the instances of Gibbs' enlightenment almost as much as the instances of his stupefaction.

"Jack!" Gibbs walked around the wheel, and stopped directly in front of Jack.

"What?" Jack wrinkled his forehead, glancing at Gibbs disapprovingly.

"Jack..." Gibbs whispered resignedly.

"What?" Jack gave him a hard look.

"Jack," Gibbs looked at him with a nervous smile flickering across his face. "Ye can't..." he said almost pleadingly.

"Master Gibbs-" started Jack angrily, but was interrupted by Ragetti, who suddenly appeared as if out of nowhere, with a very anxious expression on his face.

"Cap-Captain," he stammered. "I think something's wrong with-"

Before he even managed to finish the sentence, Jack was already hectically heading below deck.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 20**

As Jack approached Elizabeth's cabin, he heard cries, and screams, which sent shivers up his spine. Outside her door stood Pintel, and some other crew members, all looking rather bewildered, to say the least. Jack walked past them, paying no attention to their questioning looks. He opened the door, and froze.

Elizabeth was sitting on the floor, reduced to sobs, shivering, and crying, and pressing her hands against her ears, screaming words that were mostly unrecognizable, muffled by tears, and the spasmodic convulsions.

Jack slammed the door shut behind him, cutting the crew off the view. He knelt down on the floor next to Elizabeth, and put his hands on her shoulders, trying to make her look at him.

"Lizzie, Lizzie," he repeated quite senselessly, not really knowing what to say. Not knowing what was going on.

She seemed to acknowledge his presence, but only shook her head in response, and continued crying, pressing her palms against her ears as hard as she could.

_She is be remembering something_, he thought in cold dismay.

"Elizabeth, look at me. Tell me, what is it. Lizzie. Please," he tried to take her hands off her ears, but she was determined to keep them where they were.

"It won't go away!!" she screamed, uttering at last some words that he was actually able to understand.

His eyes widened, he cupped her face in his hands: "What won't go away? Lizzie, what won't go away?" he whispered, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible, hoping that it will help her to calm down as well.

She looked at him for the first time since he had come in, and whispered: "That sound..."

He looked at her anxiously. She was terrified. Her eyes were red from crying, the traces of tears all over her face.

Seeing that she calmed down if only slightly, Jack gently took her hands off her ears, and this time she let him do this. Still, there was an expression of dismay on her face. She looked at him, but her mind seemed to be somewhere else.

"Do you hear that?" she asked in a barely audible whisper.

Jack glanced around the room, and listened, but heard nothing.

"No, I don't think there is anything..." he said hesitantly, brushing the tears away from her face with the back of his hand.

For a moment she appeared to be quite calm, until all of a sudden her face contorted, she shut her eyes, and screamed as if stabbed with a knife. Jack shuddered.

"It's in my head... it won't go away... it's so loud... it hurts... it's in my head..." she muttered in a faltering whisper.

Jack embraced her, and pulled her towards him, closing her in his arms, rocking her back , and forth, and nervously stroking her hair.

"It's alright, I'm here, it's nothing, it will go away," he did not even know what he was saying. He had no idea what she was talking about. Sound. What sound? He tried to imagine what on Earth could be going on in her mind.

"It hurts," she breathed, burying her head in his chest.

"Shhh." He kissed her on the forehead, and held her as tightly as possible. She seemed to be quieting down, but he was not sure whether it was for long.

Maybe it was something purely physical? Some aftermath of the accident? Of the head injury?

"It started..." she whispered, "and I thought that... it's mine... but then... it grew louder, and louder... in my head... and it hurt... it hurts..." she shuddered, and moaned, and began crying again.

"'Lizbeth," he cupped her face, her eyes closed, tears streaming down her cheeks. His heart was breaking at the sight.

"Make it go away, Jack," she whispered half-consciously. "Make it go away..." she collapsed into his arms, and sobbed, tugging on his shirt.

How could he make it go away? Whatever it was...

"Lizzie..." he muttered stroking her hair, rubbing her back. He would have given everything only to make her feel better, but he did not know what to do.

He cupped her face in his hands once again. He could see that she was exhausted, wearied of crying.

He leaned towards her, and kissed her softly on the lips. She kissed him back weakly, but eagerly. She was tired. He moved his lips from her mouth to her cheeks, kissing away her tears, kissing her eyelids, placing kisses all over her face. She clung to him desperately, still shivering, but not sobbing any more.

She still heard it. Somewhere in her head. The sound. The beating. The beating sound. Overwhelming. Cruel. Coming from nowhere. Coming from her head. She did not know. And it was still there. The rhythmical, loud, soul-shattering beating. But Jack's kisses at least made her focus on something else.

She blindly reached for him, and pulled him to her rapaciously. She opened her eyes, and cupped his face in her hands, stopping his kisses. She studied his face for a moment. Looking at him made her feel better, safer, safe from the sound... She kissed him, and he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around her, abruptly pressing her against him. She gasped, taken off guard, but not wishing to pull away. Not wishing to pull away at all. He held her close, so close, in such a tight embrace that it almost hurt. And maybe it did hurt, but it was not the kind of pain as the pain caused by the beating sound. In fact, the harder he pressed her body against his, the harder he kissed her, the less severe the pain caused by the beating resounding in her head was becoming.

She entangled her fingers in his hair, kissing him as feverishly as possible, hearing the sound fading away... vanishing... disappearing...

"It's gone," breathed Elizabeth, resting her head against his shoulder.

"That's good," whispered Jack, leisurely running his fingers through her hair, regaining his breath. "What was it, luv?" he asked hesitantly, when her breathing became less ragged.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "A sound... some sound... a beating sound..."

Jack's eyes flew wide open. "A beating sound?" he echoed in a hollow tone of voice, wrinkling his forehead.

"Yes," whispered Elizabeth nestling her head into his neck. "But it's gone now," she added with a sigh.

Jack rested his head against hers, and closed his eyes, tightening his embrace around her.

_It's not gone, 'Lizbeth. It's not gone at all._

* * *

"What kind of gatherin' is this? Some holiday I'm unaware of? Or ye just decided to check whether perhaps this ship can sail by itself?" bellowed Barbossa, grimacing at the crew standing at the Elizabeth's cabin door.

To Barbossa's astonishment, the only response that he got was: "Shhhhh!" whispered in unison. And that was an absolutely unacceptable kind of answer.

"Don't ye dare to "sh" me ye scurvy-" he snapped angrily, but was arrogantly hushed once again.

"Shhhh! Something's not right with the poppet," said in a awkwardly loud whisper Pintel.

Barbossa narrowed his eyes, and looked at him in silence for a moment. "Wonderful!" he exclaimed finally with a sneer. "Now the whole ship will be evolving around the wench."

"It ain't a wench, it's the poppet," observed Ragetti matter-of-factly, in a low tone of voice. Everybody stared at Ragetti, who was busy polishing his eye with the edge of his shirt. "And a Pirate King," he added thoughtfully.

"Shhh!" Pintel grimaced at him angrily. "Ye idiot! D'ye want t'be struck by a lightnin'?!" he whispered feverishly, pointing up with his finger.

Ragetti put his eye back, and blinked. "From the ceilin'?"

"From the sky!" exclaimed Pintel knitting his eyebrows in annoyance.

"It ain't the sky, it's the ceilin'," said Ragetti in a very calm tone of voice.

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Enough!!" he shouted. "An' back t'work ye lousy dogs!!" he screamed.

With a start, everybody scurried away. Barbossa shook his head angrily, watching the pirates disappear up the stairs.

"Pirate King," he snorted to himself derisively. "Just 'cause one bloody idiot voted for 'er."

* * *

Jack carried Elizabeth to the bed. She was already half-asleep from exhaustion. He gently put her down, making sure that her head was laying comfortably on the pillow. He wanted to look around for the blanket, but Elizabeth stopped him, clutching his hand.

"Don't go," she whispered, as she did on the very first evening of their rediscovered acquaintance.

"I'm not going, I'm just..." he started, but trailed off, giving up on the blanket for a moment.

He laid down next to her, propping his head on his elbow. She laid on her side, with her head turned to him, and her eyes closed. Jack brushed some loose locks of her hair away from her face. She raised her hand, and put it over his, which she then placed on her cheek.

It was all his fault. He could not stop thinking that it was all his fault what she was going through. He was making her suffer. And he had to stop it. He had to tell her. Before it was too late.

"Maybe I wanted it to happen, Jack," she said softly.

If it was not too late already.

"What, Lizzie?" he asked quietly, leaning closer towards her.

She sighed, still keeping her eyes closed. "Maybe I wanted to forget, Jack. Do you think it's possible, that I have lost my memory, because I had wanted to lost it? Maybe there was something I had wanted to forget?" she opened her eyes, and looked at him with the last, lonely tears still sparkling on her eyelashes.

The expression on his face was the one of anxious solemnity. He looked at her, his brown, ocean-deep eyes studying her face with the mixture of concern, tenderness, worry... And something else yet, that she could not quite decipher.

"I don't know, luv," he said under his breath, reasonably trying to push that too-good-to-be-true interpretation away.

She moved closer to him, their faces almost touching."I don't think I want it back anymore," she said hesitantly, gazing into his eyes as if trying to see through him, to see what he was thinking of.

He looked at her intently, but did not say anything. She let go of his hand on her cheek, and he brushed her lips with his fingertips. She blinked, and trembled.

"And what do you want, Lizzie?" he murmured. _What are ye doing what the hell ye're doing..._

She smiled timidly, and snuggled into his chest. "You," she said in a barely audible whisper.

She had the impression that he froze at her words. At her one word, actually. Was he surprised? Was he displeased? Displeased. She had no idea why should he be displeased, however-

He gently propped her chin with his hand, and kissed her softly on the mouth.

"You have me already," he whispered with his roguish smile flickering across his face. _Go ahead, good man, go ahead._

She smiled, and leaned into him, but then they both cringed at the sudden sound of an angry, screaming voice coming from the hallway:

"Enough!! An' back t'work ye lousy dogs!!"

Jack rolled his eyes. _Bloody usurper._

* * *

Will stood on the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_, resting his elbows on the rail, and looking out at the ocean. Sometimes he liked just leave the helm to somebody, and have some time alone, the time for thinking, the time for remembering.

He examined his hands. He took off his wedding ring, and looked at it smiling sadly.

That was all that they had left. Their wedding rings. What did they mean now? The vows were seemingly unfulfillable. For better, for worse, for poorer, for richer, in health, in sickness...

But someday... Or even earlier, if this legend... if the Fountain of Youth-

The ship turned violently. Somebody must have carelessly let go of the wheel for a moment.

"No!" Will shouted, as the ring slipped out of his fingers, and fell to the water, disappearing between the waves.

"What's happened?" asked Bootstrap Bill Turner approaching his son anxiously.

"The wedding ring. I dropped it," gasped Will, squinting hopelessly, unable to see anything but the waves brushing the side of the ship.

Bill Turner sighed. "Don't worry," he said tapping Will on the shoulder. "It was only a ring, son," he smiled reassuringly. "It was only a ring."


	21. Chapter 21

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the reviews:)**_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 21**

Jack waited until Elizabeth fell asleep. He looked at her, running his hand through her hair, and wondering what was he exactly doing. Where did he think it all led? Where did he wanted it to lead?

And why should he not want it to lead where he wanted it to lead.

Nevertheless, he let her words cross his mind as they pleased. She said she had wanted... She said_ maybe _she had wanted to forget... He kept dropping "maybe". He kept dropping the fact that it was all his doing that she was left to confusion. He kept _forgetting _that every action had its aftermath. Every action, and some words too.

However, it was very tempting to think that she still had her free will (_you left her her free will? Oh, bugger if you're not the kindest person ever, mate), _and everything that she was doing was (_now, be creative)... _conscious? Deliberate? Intended? Desired? By her? _Of course "by her". It's all her fault, really. Right? That she is so damn beautiful. That she is so damn fascinating. That she is so damn... Lizzie. And that ye, damn ye, damn lo-_

He stood up to leave. She was asleep. He could leave now. She sighed in her sleep.

He could not imagine telling her... What would she say? Would she even believe him? At first...

And what if... What if she wakes up, remembering everything? He knew it was possible. One day she may just open her eyes, and know everything... What would she say _then_? Would she believe that he had wanted to tell her, but... Would she believe why he had not told her? Would she believe him? In anything. Anymore?

He slumped onto the bed next to her once again, and brushed her hair away from her neck. If he tells her, he could never do this again. If he tells her, she will never kiss him again. If he tells her, everything will disappear...

But it has begun. He knew that it has begun. And what just happened only proved it. She was beginning to remember, or rather the past has begun remembering her...

It will haunt her. Her past will track her down, and he has no right putting her in a position to feel guilty, because it was not her fault, that they... that there was something... happening... between them... _maybe_...

Jack put his head in his hands, sighing. It was wrong. It was so wrong. Even he knew that it was wrong.

He lifted his head, and looked at her. _And I don't give a damn... whether it's right or wrong... now, do I?_

He leaned down as if to kiss her, but then after a moment of hesitation, he drew back abruptly, and stormed off the cabin, almost slamming the door shut behind him. But he caught the door in the last moment, and closed it quietly. He rested his head against the door, and stood like that, with his eyes closed, for a while, before a dratted voice shook him out of the numbness.

"Ye know Jack, there's an easy way of getting a woman out of yer head," said Barbossa with a sneer.

"I wonder if there's a way of getting ye out of this ship," snapped Jack dryly, walking past him.

* * *

"_You were supposed to keep it safe!"_

Elizabeth woke up gasping for air. She looked around terrified. The cabin was dark, and she was alone. She sat upright in bed, and closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing.

Yet another nightmare. But different, this time. The dream that she had had in Tortuga, about a gold bracelet tightening around her wrist now seemed fairly obvious... The wedding ring... That was why she wanted to get rid of it... On the one hand she feared, irrationally perhaps, but still, that it could really do some harm to her, that ring. On the other hand, she did not want it, because she felt no connection with it.

She opened her eyes, and slowly brought her hand to her eyes to look at the ring that Jack had given her. Despite the darkness in the room, she felt as if there was light emanating from the ring... She could not see it, but she could feel it...

Her hand fell on the blanket she was covered with. She closed her eyes again remembering her recent dream. She was in the mist, and she heard a voice calling: _"You were supposed to keep it safe!" _The voice was desperate, cracking, familiar, yet frightening. And she did not know what to think... Keep it safe... Keep what safe? Was she supposed to be taking care of something? What could it be? Keep _it_ safe. So it was not a person. At least that. Neglecting taking care of a person would have been awful. You were supposed to keep it safe... You were supposed to... A duty? An obligation? A promise? Did it have something to do with the ring?

Elizabeth nestled her head into the pillow. She did not want to think about _that_ ring. It was gone. Forgotten. In so many ways...

She wondered what time of the day or night it was? The little window in the cabin was completely dark, so it was probably night time...

She laid very still for a moment; listening. The beating sound. She suddenly remembered it. She listen to make sure that she could not hear it anymore. No. She sighed with relief. The sound was gone. That beating sound. That... She opened her eyes really wide, at the sudden realization that sent shivers down her spine. That... _heart_ beat.

Subconsciously, she knew that it was how it sounded from the beginning, but somehow she refused to think about it. But now it just hit her with full force. That beating sound was a sound of a beating heart. What heart? Whose heart? Her heart? Why would it be so painful, if it was her own? It could not be. It could not be... Or could it?

She slid off the bed, and staggered to her feet. She still felt a little dizzy. She looked at the door with hesitation. She wanted to go to Jack, but where could he be? How could she find him?

She shuddered, suddenly. She wrinkled her forehead. What was that? She just had felt something strange for a moment. She had felt it when she had thought about finding him... going to him... searching for him...It was as if, as if... as if she has felt it before... Strange.

Elizabeth sighed, and slowly walked towards the door. Maybe she could just check whether he was in his cabin... She did not want to walk around the ship alone, but his cabin was right here, very near, so she could just check there...

She pressed the knob, and walked out of her cabin, walking straight to his cabin's door, and knocking on it softly. No answer. She knocked again, a little louder. Nothing. He was not there, apparently.

* * *

Not there, indeed. After Elizabeth had fallen asleep, Jack had come back to the helm. He had steered the Pearl for several hours, not even thinking about it. He was just standing at the helm, listless, indifferent, absent... And he could not decide what should he do.

Before the dawn, he had left the helm to Cotton, and was on his way to his cabin, when, walking down the stairs he saw her. He stopped in his tracts. She was... knocking on his door. He stared at her knocking on his door for a moment, and then turned around, and walked back up on deck as quickly, and as noiselessly as possible, oblivious...

...oblivious to the fact that she has noticed him.

Elizabeth stared at the stairs, with her hand still raised, about to knock again. But after a moment her hand dropped to her side involuntarily.

She suddenly felt cold. _Why did he turn away? He must've seen me... So he turned away, because he had seen me?..._

She looked around confusedly, half-baffled, half-sad. Lost.

* * *

It was ridiculously infantile to think that avoiding her will solve the problem, or change anything.

Still, it was decidedly simpler a solution than telling her...

Simpler? Jack snorted. No, it was not simpler. Not simpler at all.

He absent-mindedly ran his hand across the _Black Pearl's_ rail. It felt inanimate. Strangely. After so many years of being the most animate, beloved texture that he has ever touched.

He drew back his hand, and held it motionlessly in the air, still staring out at the black ocean. It was still there... When he was thinking of it... He could still feel... He could still feel how her skin felt under his fingertips... He could feel her hair sifting through his fingers...

He tapped his hand on the rail impatiently. _No._

_No? _One part of him sneered at the other. _No what? No, ye won't lie to her anymore, or no, ye won't tell her?_

And of course he knew the answer. And at the break of day, yet another _tomorrow_ was gone.

* * *

The better part of the next day, Elizabeth spent strolling around the ship with Mr. Gibbs. She found him very agreeable. She tried to be as nice to him as he was to her, but it was difficult, since she kept drifting off in her thoughts, and failing to hear some of his remarks, and his questions.

She could not stop thinking of Jack. Of how wonderful it had felt to be held by him, to be in his arms... And the way he had kissed her... So overwhelmingly intoxicating... She could hardly catch her breath at the mere memory. "_You have me already."_ She could not comprehend why was he evading seeing her right now.

She hoped that perhaps she had been mistaken, and that last night it was not him on the stairs... But... when Mr. Gibbs had knocked on her door in the morning with cheerful announcement of being asked to show her around the _Black Pearl_, she had known that something was wrong. She knew that for some reason Jack did not wish to see her. And she had not the faintest idea why could that be so. What has she done?

Elizabeth tried to shake off her grim thoughts, and focus on what Mr. Gibbs was saying.

"From the bow to the stern runs the keel," went on Gibbs, supporting his words with vivid gestures, "And the hull of the ship's built around it-" he stopped in mid-sentence, noticing a peculiar expression on Elizabeth's face.

She stopped walking, and gazed pensively into the distance, knitting her eyebrows together.

_...isn't just a keel and a hull..._

"Is everything all right, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked cautiously, looking at her with concern.

_A ship isn't just a keel and a hull... _"Yes," replied Elizabeth mechanically. "A ship..." she hesitated.

"Yes?" Gibbs came closer to her. "Is there anything you wished to know about the ship?" he asked helpfully.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, her mind clearly working on something intensely at the moment.

"A ship," she started again, slowly, thoughtfully, as if pulling every word out of her mind with difficulty. Gibbs looked at her expectantly. "A ship isn't just a keel and a hull-"

"Well, of course," he cut her off with a chuckle. "There's also-"

"...a deck and sails..." she whispered, her eyes aglitter.

"Yes!" smiled Gibbs enthusiastically. "A deck, most definitely, and-"

"...that's what a ship needs..." Elizabeth bit her lower lip, and looked intensely into the distance.

"That's right," nodded Gibbs appreciatively. "That's what a ship needs, as well as-"

"A ship isn't just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs," repeated Elizabeth the whole sequence of words very quickly, to make sure that they would not slip from her mind again.

"Aye," said Gibbs, slightly confused, beginning to realize that she was not exactly paying attention to what he was saying.

"But what a ship is..." she trailed off, wrinkling her nose nervously, "...what a ship is..." she muttered, getting upset, for some reason.

Gibbs looked at her worriedly. He glanced around, and spotted Jack heading to the helm, looking at them, but clearly not intending to come closer. Gibbs waved his hand at him, silently suggesting that he should come see something.

Jack stared at him indecisively. He had promised himself... He looked at Elizabeth. The expression on her face intrigued him. He looked back at Gibbs. Maybe indeed something was happening.

He hurriedly walked towards them. Elizabeth did not even seem to notice him approaching, lost in thought. Gibbs leaned towards Jack, and whispered:

"I think she's remembering something."

Jack stared at him for a moment, stupefied, and then took a few steps towards Elizabeth, standing right next to her. But she still did not seem to have acknowledged his presence.

And then she said something that amazed him.

"A ship isn't just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's a ship needs," she muttered stubbornly, desperate to get the entire sentence right this time. "But what a ship is, what the... what the..." her eyes flew wide open, as she said the next words with timid disbelief, "what the _Black Pearl_ really is...? " _The Black Pearl?! The Black Pearl. I didn't know about the Black Pearl... I... The Black Pearl... How..._

Jack observed her suddenly falling silent. What could she be thinking right now? Thoughts rushed through his mind. She was remembering... But why was she remembering _that_?...

He gestured for Gibbs to walk away. Gibbs looked baffled, and curious, but he followed the request nevertheless, and slowly went away, glancing from time to time at them over his shoulder.

"Freedom," said Jack in a firm, but hollow tone of voice.

Elizabeth cringed, and swiftly turned around. She looked at him bewildered. It struck her, the look on his face, the sadness in his eyes. But somewhere in the back of her mind she was just elated that he came, that she could see him, that... But wait. What did he say?

"What did you say, Jack?" she asked in a low tone of voice, taking a step towards him. All of a sudden she just wanted to throw herself into his arms, but something was holding her back.

"Freedom," repeated Jack in a whisper, his eyes wandering over her face, over her eyes, her lips, her neck, and shoulders, as if he wanted to see all parts of her simultaneously. "What the_ Black Pearl_ really is, is freedom," he said studying her face intensely.

_It's over_, he thought, with bitter regret. _It's over._


	22. Chapter 22

A/N: _**My wonderful reviewers: thank you very much for your reviews!**_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 22**

It was an opportune moment. It was the inescapably opportune moment to confess the truth. In fact, the confession at that point was unavoidable. There was no way out.

Apparently.

"How did you know that, Jack?" asked Elizabeth, confused. "How did you know that... sentence?" she looked at him expectantly, but without a trace of suspicion neither in her eyes, nor in her voice.

She was merely astonished by this... coincidence? She did not know what it was, exactly. She remembered a sentence, and strangely enough that sentence not only contained the name of a ship that she has known for a couple of days only, but also the same sentence was known by Jack. It was... intriguing.

"Because it was me who said that, Lizzie," he whispered, staring at her intently, too intently, nigh desperately.

Elizabeth blinked, stupefied. "You said that?" she asked with a timid smile, trying to understand.

Jack nodded reluctantly.

"I don't understand, Jack." Elizabeth shook her head. "How come? I mean..." she trailed off, not really knowing how to explain her confusion. Why should she _remember_ the _Black Pearl_? How could _he_ know the sentence _she_ remembered? And... how could he be the one who actually had said that sentence?...

They stood mere inches from each other, and maybe it was either this proximity, or perhaps there was something in her eyes... And the _Black Pearl _rocking under their feet, and the blue sky, the sound of the waves, the wind, the sun... everything was so perfect, she was so perfect, and she was looking at him, and she wanted to believe him. Yes, he had that irrational impression that she wanted to believe him, that she was willing to believe in everything that he might have decided to say... His heart was racing in his chest. _Would it be really possible? Would it work? No, no. This is the right moment, and it's too late, and I can't , and it's over, and it's wrong, and... "What do you want, Lizzie?"... "You"..._

"I said that to you when you were sleeping, Lizzie. I didn't think you heard that." _What. Am. I. Doing. Bloody. Hell._

Elizabeth looked at him, baffled, and silent for a moment. "When?" she asked after a while with a sweet smile.

Jack looked at her, transfixed. _When? Only that? _"Last night," he replied, almost choking on the words.

"What else did you tell me when I was sleeping?" she asked taking, to his absolutely elating terror, his hand in hers.

She has taken it for granted. He had said something to her when she was sleeping, and her mind had unconsciously registered his words, and now those words seemed as if she remembered them from the past... Simple. Plausible. Obvious.

"Well," he tried to think logically in between throwing all kind of curses at himself in his mind, "I might have mentioned, that..." he brushed a strand of hair away from her face.

_And I thought that he was deliberately avoiding me..._

"... that... we are... peas in a pod..." he blurted out. _Sheer impudence. Pure brilliance. Go on._

Elizabeth smiled uncertainly. "And why is that, Jack?" she asked interestedly, squeezing his hand, but he could not tell whether she meant that, or maybe it was just accidental.

"'Cause," he started, cheering up for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, "we are very much alike," he said with an impish smile. "Me and you, you and I-"

"Us," cut in Elizabeth with a smile.

Jack chuckled, and stared at her with certain anxiety, but she did not seem to notice. Neither did she seem to recognize the words, even though she actually completed the sentence correctly... But maybe she just completed it spontaneously... as strange as it may seem... as natural as it might be...

"Us," he echoed with a grin. _Nothing's easier than telling the truth, aye?_

She grinned back, and they stood for a while just smiling at each other, which might have looked rather silly from the outside...

They started at the sound of somebody clearing his throat rather loudly.

"Cap'n," Gibbs looked at them somewhat confusedly.

"Yes, Mr. Gibbs," Jack narrowed his eyes impatiently.

"Well," Gibbs choked, "I was wonderin' whether we could continue lookin' around the _Pearl_ with Miss-"

"No," Jack cut him off abruptly, "ye can take the helm, and I'll finish showing the ship." Gibbs opened his mouth to say something with a clear "but" expression on his face. "Thank you," Jack shot him a grim look, cutting him off once again.

Elizabeth smiled faintly, holding on to Jack's hand.

But Jack underestimated Gibbs' determination. "Well, if I could suggest-"

"Yes, Mister Gibbs," broke in Jack in a not very encouraging tone of voice.

"Perhaps-"

"Perhaps ye should give yerself a chance to take orders, instead of giving them, since giving the orders to those from whom ye should take them, may take ye somewhere where ye wouldn't wish to be taken at all. Aye?" With this, and without waiting for an answer, he walked away with Elizabeth, leaving Gibbs to his own musings, which were not very cheerful.

He did not want to be impertinent. He just wanted everybody to be happy, and not to get hurt, and as far as he could judge the situation right now... he was afraid, that everybody was going to get hurt, somehow.

* * *

"Where are we going?" inquired Elizabeth smilingly.

"You'll see, luv," answered Jack quizzically, holding her by the hand tightly.

She laughed, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. A thought flickered across her mind. One night in that inn in Tortuga... she had had that dream in which she heard somebody saying that he loved her... A dream. But... was it possible... that it was not only a dream?... If...

"Now, Lizzie," Jack stopped walking, and turned to Elizabeth, "ye have to wrap yer arms around me neck really tightly."

"What?" Elizabeth chuckled, slightly baffled, but still looking at him with naive and constant admiration.

He could not help noticing this, and every time he noticed it, all those lies were losing their importance. The sense of guilt was evaporating. And it did not matter that he was heading towards the dead end, that this road could not possibly lead anywhere good, that he was saving every lie with only yet another lie, mixing the lies with the truth, while simultaneously twisting the truth somehow, and occasionally even straightening the truth, by adding a lie to it; expressing the truth, but lying nonetheless.

Because sometimes the only way to tell the truth was to lie. A paradox. A bliss. A misery.

"I'm not suggesting," he smiled roguishly, glancing at her lips, "anything improper. All I ask is for you to hold on to me while I'll be climbing up there with you on my back. Savvy?" explained Jack gesturing towards the crow's nest located on the main mast.

Elizabeth looked up in dismay, blushing, as her mind involuntarily began to imagine the improper things that he might have _not_ been suggesting. "It's rather... high," she said hesitantly after a moment.

Jack stepped closer to her, and whispered, his lips only inches away from hers: "That's the point, luv."

"Alright, but... I can... climb up myself," she suggested bravely in a shaky voice, gazing into his eyes with probably the most _improper_ fascination.

"Aye," Jack gave her a cocky grin. "It's up to you, Lizzie-luv. If that's what _you_ prefer..."

"And what do _you_ prefer?" she asked, and only after having asked realizing how awkward it must have sounded.

Jack smirked. "Well," he cleared his throat, "I most definitely prefer having your lovely arms and legs wrapped all around me," he said in an amused tone of voice.

Elizabeth looked at him with her eyes as wide as ever. "Oh," was the only reply that she could muster at the moment.

Jack looked at her expectantly, enjoying her embarrassment. Enjoying the fact that she probably thought it wrong to say "yes", but she did not want to say "no", and therefore-

"Alright, then," she mumbled, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Alright what?" asked Jack with vicious innocence.

"Alright... to what you said," answered Elizabeth impatiently.

"Good," consented Jack in a pretendedly indifferent tone of voice, helping Elizabeth onto his back.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, and then, reluctantly, she wrapped her legs around his hips as well, taking an anxious look around the deck. Somehow she would rather prefer not to be seen right now.

As Jack began climbing, her eyes stopped for a moment at the main mast itself... She felt a twinge of something... Something... bitter... But she could not quite specify what it was. She pressed her cheek to Jack's head, closed her eyes, and concentrated on holding on to him.

"Now, hold on," said Jack putting his legs over the railing, when they reached the small platform at the top. Then he cautiously helped her down, and turned around to face her, which was not all that easy, since the space was very limited, and they were virtually pressed against each other. "Let's sit," ordered Jack sitting down, and pulling Elizabeth beside him.

Before she even had a chance to say anything, he wrapped his arm around her, and pulled her close.

"We don't want you to fall down, do we?" he whispered as a way of explanation, but it sounded like a rather sweeping statement, since the railing around the platform seemed rather dependable.

Elizabeth looked at him quizzically.

"Look, Lizzie," said Jack in a low tone of voice, an impish smile flickering across his face. He has never realized, until now, that just being looked at may feel that intoxicating.

"I'm looking," she whispered, staring at him intently.

Jack's smile widened. He leaned towards her, and said looking deep into her eyes: "Not at me, luv. Look around you."

Elizabeth blinked. "Oh," she muttered with a shy smile, and with some difficulty tore her eyes off him, and looked...

He did not follow her gaze, and instead just kept his eyes on her, watching her every move, every detail of her facial expressions changing, every stage of each smile, every strand of her hair tugged on by the light wind. And he could not stop thinking that she belonged here. She belonged to the sea, and not to some godforsaken place somewhere.. wherever that somewhere was... whatever that somewhere meant to be...

"Jack," she gasped looking around with almost childish awe. "It's breathtaking," she leaned slightly forward, turning her head right and left. She smiled. And laughed. And looked at him, and then looked around again.

It was as if even the ship was not there, as if she was placed on that magical carpet that she has read some fairy tales about. Above the ocean, under the sky, trapped in between... No, not trapped. Free. Able to see the entire world around her, the entire ocean...

_...entire ocean..._, the phrase, for some reason, echoed in her head.

The view was spectacular. Nothing, but the ocean, calm, blue, endless, mesmerizing, beautiful, immense ocean laid before her, around her, everywhere... And it felt as if there was nothing that could not be imagined, that could not be achieved, that could be longed for and not granted. Everything was possible, and yet, there was nothing else that seemed necessary, apart from that moment, that ocean, and that... man.

She shifted her eyes from the sea, and looked at him. He had only a small, thoughtful smile on his face, and he was looking at her interestedly.

"How do you always know, Jack?" she asked quietly, studying his face with a smile.

He gently pulled her toward him, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

"Know what, luv?" he inquired in a low tone of voice, tilting his head to look at her.

"What I would like... Where I would like to be... What would I like to do..." she sighed. "Even I don't know any of these," she added, looking up at him.

"I told you, Lizzie," he said, brushing his lips against hers, "we are very much alike..."

"And," started Elizabeth, caressing his cheek with the back of her hand, "how do you know _that_?"

"Ah," smirked Jack, "I told ye that as well, darling. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Oh, I see," said Elizabeth with a mischievous smile. "So tell me," she narrowed her eyes challengingly, "Captain Sparrow, what do I want right now?"

Jack tightened his embrace, and whispered into her ear. "I asked you that yesterday, luv. And I was quite happy with your answer. Has anything changed since yesterday?"

Elizabeth pondered his words for a moment, until she remembered what she had, indeed, said yesterday. She drew a shallow breath.

"N-no," she stammered.

"Good," smirked Jack, tracing the outline of her lips with his fingertips, locking his eyes with hers.

She blinked, and then out of the corner of her eye she spotted something.

"Jack, look!" she exclaimed, pointing to what she has just noticed.

Somewhat disappointed, Jack reluctantly turned his head, and looked.

And he decidedly did not like what he saw.


	23. Chapter 23

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the reviews! **_

Spoiler: Haha no;) Not yet. And I am sorry if somebody should feel disappointed. But actually this story is a little/sort of/kind of/slightly planned out in advance; so I am not being deceitful. It's just that the time for what I know & you understand, has not come yet. Honestly speaking, everything would be easier, if your predictions _were _correct... But perhaps this story is just more _drama_tic than it seems...

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 23**

"Mr. Gibbs!" yelled Jack, when he and Elizabeth got down from the crow's nest.

"Aye, Captain," Gibbs approached quickly, glancing at Elizabeth clutching Jack's arm tightly.

"What's happening?" asked Jack sharply, noticing the glance, and slightly annoyed by it.

"Well," Gibbs swallowed, "there's a ship in sight," he stated resolutely.

"Yes, we've noticed that," muttered Jack. "What ship?"

"What ship?" Gibbs blinked. How could _he_ know? He was not the one in the crow's nest...

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Hard t'say what ship, yet. It's too far," unexpectedly cut in Barbossa.

"Ah," said Jack with a frown, noticing the direction from which Barbossa came; the helm.

"And it ain't _flying_ any colors," added Barbossa with a sneer.

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, but said nothing.

"It looks unfamiliar," Gibbs nodded his head in agreement.

"Yes," Barbossa squinted thoughtfully, "it may not be English-"

"Mr. Gibbs," Jack cut Barbossa off impatiently. "I'll take the helm, only-"

"... it may be Scottish..." continued his musings Barbossa, an evil grin flickering across his lips.

Jack glanced at him irritably. "...only," Jack continued speaking to Gibbs, ignoring Barbossa, "I need a moment, and I'll be back."

Elizabeth observed everything intently, but kept silent, from time to time feeling a quizzical urge to say something, although she did not know what could she possibly say. There was something disturbingly familiar in the whole situation. But she had no idea what it could be. Maybe she just began feeling at home on this ship, and that was why it felt so familiar?

"... or it may be..." Barbossa hesitated theatrically. "Spanish?"

"I'll walk ye below, Lizzie," said Jack in a low tone of voice, shooting a stern look on Barbossa.

Jack and Elizabeth headed for the stairs leading below the deck, but before they stepped below, Barbossa's mockingly serious voice reached them yet:

"Or perhaps... Dutch!" he exclaimed somewhat amused.

Elizabeth glanced at him over her shoulder, not really understanding what he was grinning about.

"Bloody traitor," muttered Jack, walking down the stairs.

"It must have been awful for you to be forced to sail with him after what he had done," said Elizabeth quietly, looking at Jack concernedly.

Something snapped in her mindas she said that._ It must have been awful... It must have been awful for you... It must have been-_

"Aye," Jack consented, but then brightened up, and darted his eyes to her. "But I happened to have a fair amount of distraction to keep me from pondering over that all the time."

Elizabeth held back a smile. "That's very convenient, then. But I wonder what could that _distraction_ be?"

Jack smirked, and spun her around in his arms, catching her off guard, and pulling her closer towards him.

She brought her hands up to rest on his shoulders, and stared at him curiously.

"Distract me," he whispered, studying her face intensely. _Original, are we, aye?_

Elizabeth's eyelashes fluttered nervously. "I'm afraid that I can tell you no stories of me like you told me of you. I don't remember any," she said cautiously.

"Not a story is the distraction I'm talking about, luv." Jack smiled at her impishly. "As I said. Distract me."

She looked at him hesitantly. She had a vague supposition that perhaps she should not have known what he meant, but somehow she knew, and it made her feel rather embarrassed. But the magnetism of his eyes was stronger.

She leaned into him, kissed him softly on the mouth, and looked at him, meeting his dark gaze. He did not even move.

"I'm not distracted," he whispered, his eyes glimmering in the dimly lit corridor, a trace of a smile flickering across his lips.

Elizabeth slightly narrowed her eyes at him. What was this game that he was playing? Was it even a game? She had an impression that he was dragging her into a world from which there was no way out. He was tugging on her emotions. It was not exactly like he was taking advantage of her... But she felt as if he was tying her up to him somehow, forcing her to confess, if only wordlessly, all of her feelings, making her realize how much she needed him, how much she wanted him to be near her, how much she was unable to pull away... And she knew that every hour, every day could only make it worse... Worse? Better...

He was watching her as she brought her lips to his once again, kissing him harder this time, yet somewhat hesitantly. He closed his eyes, and fight the urge to kiss her back. She broke the kiss, and looked at him, baffled, perplexed, disappointed.

"Not distracted at all," he said in a husky whisper, smiling at her roguishly, challengingly, his eyes almost as black as the kohl around them.

Elizabeth stared at him, breathing raggedly, her hands clutching nervously the fabric on his shoulders. Her mind was blank. Blank... Hazy... And so were her eyes. She knew that he was teasing her, trying to prove something to her... Maybe he was trying to show her that the moment she had stepped on board of this ship, she had made a decision, which had consequences.

What troubled her most, however, was that she did not care about the consequences.

Or rather... worse (better?...) still, she _wanted_ these consequences to take over her. To take over her will. Take over her will and turn it to ashes.

Taking him, as much as herself, by surprise, she pushed her lips against his desperately, kissing him with all the passion that she could find within herself at the moment. And this time he did kiss her back. He drew her close, very close, pulling her towards him, and away from everything else, away from the world. He deepened the kiss feverishly, and a thought flashed across her mind, that he kissed her as if he was running away from something, as if he was running out of time.

She shivered as he ran his fingers through her hair. But it felt so right to be in his arms. And the taste of his lips... _I know it... I know it... _Some abstract voice kept whispering in her head. But she paid no attention.

"That was... fairly distractive," he grinned, holding her close, when they finally broke off to breathe.

* * *

"Thought ye got lost below," said Barbossa, glancing at Jack, over his shoulder.

"Move," Jack waved his hands at him disgustedly, approaching the helm.

Barbossa wrinkled his forehead, but kept his hands on the wheel all the same. "A ship needs a captain, ye know," he snarled.

"_This_ ship _has_ a captain," snapped Jack, staring angrily at the sordid sight of that bloody traitor's hands clutching the spokes.

"I thought ye're busy," said Barbossa with a sneer.

"I thought ye're dead," retorted Jack with irritation.

"I thought she killed ye," replied Barbossa, glancing at Jack with evil interest.

"I thought I killed ye," snapped back Jack almost immediately. Almost.

Barbossa smiled sardonically, and let go of the wheel. Jack caught it firmly, before it even moved an inch yet.

"Don't overestimate yer fortune, Jack," grinned Barbossa. "Fortune is capricious."

"I've noticed," muttered Jack, taking a piece of cloth out of his pocket , and spitting on it.

Barbossa raised his eyebrows, but continued: "Leavin' one's fortune to fortune-" Barbossa rolled his eyes as Jack began wiping off the spokes, "is foolish."

"Are ye advising me on shooting ye again?"

Barbossa laughed dryly. "No."

"Ah," Jack put the cloth back to his pocket.

"I'm advisin' ye on helpin' me help ye," said Barbossa in a low tone of voice, narrowing his eyes.

Jack darted his eyes to him. "Go ask Ragetti," answered Jack matter-of-factly.

Barbossa blinked, and stared at him, puzzled.

"He can tell ye where the brooms, and wiping cloths are," added Jack disinterestedly, looking away.

Barbossa snarled impatiently."I'm serious," he hissed.

"Me too," Jack shot him a stern look.

Barbossa sneered. "Ye'll change yer mind. In due time," he added confidently, and turned around, walking away.

Jack followed him with his narrowed eyes for a moment, and then shifted his gaze to the horizon. A fair-size ship, severely damaged, with dark, worn out sails, flying no colors was sailing towards the _Black Pearl_.

_A false alarm. This time,_ he added grimly.

* * *

"Captain Jack Spa_rr_ow and Captain Hecto_r_ Ba_r_bossa, sailin' togethe_r_, I am imp_r_essed," shouted a man from the ship as it approached the Pearl, passing by her starboard.

"Captain Eduardo Villanueva. What a meetin'!" exclaimed Barbossa eyeing the Spaniard's ship with amusement.

"What's happened to "yer" ship?" asked Jack curiously.

Villanueva knitted his eyebrows, and snarled angrily, his mood deteriorating at the mentioning of the ship. "Don't ask."

* * *

"It's impassable," concluded his (rather long as for a story that he had not wished to be asked to tell in the first place) story Villanueva with a frown, looking absent-mindedly around the _Black_ _Pearl_'s dining quarters. "You need to change your course."

"Well, we can't," said Jack carelessly.

Villanueva looked at him grimly. "It's a foolha_r_dy idea," he said seriously.

"Perhaps we could find another passage," cut in Barbossa with a smile. "Jack, could ye show me the map, please?"

Jack turned his head, and looked at him with sour amusement. "Nice try, Hector."

Barbossa shot him a wide smile.

"And above all," broke in Villanueva in a solemn tone of voice "the_r_e is a sto_r_m app_r_oaching."

"That's unusual," observed Jack with a smirk.

"I don't mean _a_ sto_r_m," said Villanueva with slight annoyance. "It's hell. You won't be able to pass it."

"So we won't try to pass it," Jack shrugged his shoulders. "We'll sail through it."

Barbossa knitted his eyebrows thoughtfully.

Villanueva snorted. "Do what you want," he said irritably, rising to his feet. "I'm going back on my ship, and I'm sailing back."

"And why were ye sailin' in _that_ direction _at all_?" inquired Barbossa, looking at him interestedly.

Villanueva looked at Jack and Barbossa in silence for a moment, before answering.

"Fountain of Youth," he said at last. "But it's not wo_r_th it," he added after a pause, heading for the door, either evading, or refusing to answer any more questions.

* * *

"Sounds promising," said Jack watching the Spaniard's ship sailing off and away from the _Black Pearl._

"What can _he_ know 'bout the Fountain anyway," snarled Barbossa condescendingly. "He didn't even reach it."

Jack sighed indifferently, and walked back to the helm._ Or so he said..._

* * *

Elizabeth sat cross-legged on the bed, looking at the ring that Jack has given her. She was smiling to herself thinking about... the ring? No. About him... _"We are very much alike.." _Actually... she felt that too. Although she did not know how either he, or she could possibly know that after only a few days together. _Together._ She glanced at the door, and sighed. It was almost irritating how much she missed him. Irritating, and also ridiculous. She always began missing him as soon as he walking out of the cabin, as soon as she was losing him from view. No... To tell the truth... Even sooner than that... She missed him, even when he was with her. She missed the moments that were passing, because if they were passing it meant that they were disappearing, and every moment with him, was a moment that has been lost, because it was slipping to the past right after it was happening in the present, and-

Elizabeth rested her head in her hands laughing at herself. She was going insane. But it was a sweet kind of insanity. It was-

She straightened up, and sat very still. She stopped smiling. She shivered. _No, please, no again... _She grimaced, and jumped off the bed. She quickly changed into her night gown, went back to bed, and tucked herself in the covers. She closed her eyes, and tried to fall asleep. She tried to fall asleep as hard as she could. She thought that maybe if she fell asleep fast enough, she would escape it, she would trick the beating sound, falling asleep before it could reach her.


	24. Chapter 24

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 24**

Jack came into Elizabeth's cabin in the evening. She was asleep, even though it was not very late yet. He noiselessly sat on the edge of the bed, and looked at her anxiously. Maybe she had not felt well, or maybe some blurred half-memories had been haunting her again... He leaned down over her to see if she had not been crying. But no. There were no traces of tears on her face. He stroked her cheek, and kissed her softly on the lips.

He drew back frowning. Not only was he lying to her during the day, but he was also kissing her furtively at night. Well, she kissed him during the day, but it was not the point. The point was that he was a manipulator. He was being a manipulator. No. He _was_ a manipulat-

"Jack?" Elizabeth raised her head slightly above the pillow, and looked at him drowsily.

"Lizzie," Jack blinked, surprised, straightening up.

"Are you talking to me again?" she asked amusedly, with a small smile, pushing herself up on her elbows.

He flashed her an impish smile. "Maybe," he said looking at her attentively.

Her hair, in slight disarray were falling over her shoulders. She sat upright in bed, and smiled at him.

"And what did you tell me this time?" she asked in a soft voice, absent-mindedly playing with the ring on her finger, which did not escape Jack's notice.

"I can repeat," he offered, with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes.

Elizabeth smiled again, and slightly leaned toward him: "It's not necessary. I _heard _you," she whispered, looking intently into his eyes.

Jack's smile faded. But it returned shortly. She did not seem to be upset. She did not seem to be upset at all.

"Apologies?" he proposed hesitantly, with a mockingly timid smile.

She laughed.

He smiled, maybe too seriously, when she laughed. She laughed. Hearing her laugh was taking the weight off his shoulders. It was the one thing he was actually proud of. Making her laugh. Because ever since that day, when she had seen her father... her father's soul being ferried away, he had thought that she would have never laughed again. He could still see that expression on her face, when she was trying to throw her father a rope... He could still hear that cracking voice in which she was urging him to catch it... And he still remembered how much he had wanted to comfort her, but he had not done it. It was not his place...

"Jack?" she cupped the side of his face with her hand, looking concernedly on his suddenly very grim facial expression. "You all right?" she motioned herself closer to him.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said, forcing a smile. "What did ye say, luv?" he asked her, shaking off the thoughts, and only then noticing her warm hand on his cheek.

But she withdrew her hand. "You said 'apologies?', and I said 'apologies – no, atonement – yes'," she explained patiently with childish diligence, which made Jack grin.

"What?" asked Elizabeth confusedly, with a slight frown.

He shook his head wordlessly, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed it. "Nothing, Lizzie. I just..." he hesitated under her intense gaze, "adore everything you say and the way you say it, and-", he stopped in mid-sentence, suddenly realizing that he has just said something that sounded really strange, and something that was entirely... true. And perhaps the main reason why it sounded strange was that it was true; and that he said it.

He looked away, and then looked back at her. And she was staring at him with the most peculiar expression on her face. Half-baffled, half-amazed. Her eyes glimmering. Her eyes... full of tears?

"Lizzie," Jack wrinkled his forehead, and put his arm around her.

She snuggled her head into his chest.

"What is it, darling?" he asked, holding her close, thinking about those_ rare _moments when he was holding her close _before_... And about these _many_ moments when he was holding her close _recently_... The truth just begged to be told, didn't it?

"Who am I, Jack?" she said in a faltering whisper, her cheek pressed to his chest, her breath brushing his skin through where his shirt was slightly open.

_You are my Lizzie, Lizzie..._

"What kind of person I am?" she went on, without really waiting for him to give her an answer.

An involuntary smile flickered across his lips. _Pirate._

"What am I doing well? What am I good at?"

_Anything you want to be good at, 'Lizbeth..._

"What I like? What I enjoy doing?" her voice was becoming feverish.

_Well... I have my guesses..._

"What have I done wrong?" she asked in a quivering, yet agitated tone of voice.

"You have done nothing wrong, luv," he spoke at last. She looked up at him.

"How can you know, Jack?" she asked sadly. "You can't know," she said grimly, averting her eyes. _What if I have done something terrible?_ She looked pensively into the distance. _"You were supposed to keep it safe!"_

"How could I know not?" Jack tilted back his head in mock indignation. "I'm-"

"Captain Jack Sparrow," cut in Elizabeth with a smile, looking him deeply in the eyes. "But-"

Jack placed a finger across her lips. "No arguing with the captain, luv," he said with a slight smirk. "Savvy?" he pushed some strands of hair away from her face. Her lips twitched, as he drew his hand away.

"Yes," she nodded with a small smile. Arguing with him was, in fact, the last thing on her mind at the moment.

"Good," acknowledged Jack. "Now," he wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully, "the most efficacious way to elucidate what one finds enjoyable is to endeavour to encounter exquisite enjoyments, and then extract from them the most enthralling enjoyments that evoke, otherwise exude most enjoyable emotions, aye?"

"Aye," gasped Elizabeth, transfixed.

"Therefore," continued Jack, hugging her closer to him, "we shall start tomorrow."

Elizabeth blinked. "Start what?" she asked, trying not to, but still being confused.

Jack looked at her intently, locking his eyes with hers. And it reminded him of their meeting in Tortuga... Right before that accident... She had looked at him... She had been looking at him in exactly the same way...

_Why was she in Tortuga?_

"Start encountering the enjoyments, luv," he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Elizabeth laughed.

And he thought that she has never laughed at this. She had hardly laughed at anything he had done before, despite the fact that she must have felt like laughing quite often. Yet, she had never laughed. She would just give him a half-impatient, half-bored look, pretending not to care. But apparently, she had cared. And she cared now. And now she laughed openly.

"Why can't we start now?" she asked amusedly.

He smirked at that, but then sighed gloomily. "Unfortunately now I'm enforced to encounter a certain embittered embodied execration," said Jack with a grimace.

Elizabeth laughed again, lacing her hands behind his neck. "What does he want?" she asked, brushing her lips against his cheek. He wrapped his other hand around her as well, and held her in tight embrace.

"He's scared of a little drizzle that's before us," he said, lazily entwining his fingers in her hair.

Elizabeth pressed her cheek against his, and closed her eyes. "I'm not afraid of a drizzle," she said with a smile.

"'Course you're not," whispered Jack, letting his eyelids fall over his eyes.

Cuddled up against each other, they sat in silence for a while.

He was beginning to believe that there was no sense in telling her the truth... He was beginning to believe, beginning to fall into a perilous abyss of false hopefulness that perhaps, she will never remember. It was possible, after all, wasn't it? And they could just stay like that forever...

He gently ran his hand up and down her back.

It has never happened to him before. He has never felt like this before... And now, just sitting there with her in his arms, he felt as if he was at the end of some journey... As if he has found something that he has always been searching for, not even knowing what it was. Not even knowing that he has been searching for it. And now it appeared to him that every adventure was a mere excuse. That he was trying to overshadow the lack of what he seemed to be having right now. Having? Endangered having, if at all.

He felt her fingers playing with the trinkets in his hair.

If he would tell her right now... What would she say? Right now... The thoughts were circulating in his mind lethargically. They were hypothetical. The truth was becoming obscure.

"Jack?" she whispered, her voice muffled because of the fact that her cheek was still pressed closely against his.

"Aye, luv," he answered quietly.

"Can you come back here after you will be finished with that conversation?" she asked without opening her eyes, sliding her hand down his neck, and resting it on his chest. "Because I think I'm afraid of being alone at night," she added in a timid whisper, playing with the fabric of his shirt.

"Is that so?" he inquired in a slightly jocular tone of voice, simultaneously realizing grimly how alone she must have felt... before that day in Tortuga. _Always better to be a rescuer than a manipulator, aye?_

"Yes," she muttered drowsily.

He tilted his head, kissed her ear, and whispered: "I'll be back."

Elizabeth's lips twitched to a smile, but she did not say anything. Her head slid onto his shoulder. She was asleep.

* * *

"Ah," Barbossa looked up from the map he was studying, when Jack came into the cabin. "Hope it didn't bother ye that I'm waitin' here for over an hour," he squinted peevishly.

Jack looked at him blankly. "No," he said slumping down on a chair, and propping his feet up on the table.

Barbossa glanced with annoyance at Jack's boots covering a half of the map that he had been studying. "Hope yer romantic adultery-" he grimaced exaggeratedly, as if he has just made a grievous, accidental, unwanted mistake, "that is... yer romantic love affair is goin' well?" he asked with a grin.

"I wonder Hector," started Jack calmly, staring at his own boots, instead of the man before him, "where do ye hope to be taken with all this talking, 'cause it ain't seems to me that it can take ye to the Fountain."

Barbossa laughed dryly. "Oh, somehow I'm not worried 'bout that," he said looking at his interlocutor intently.

"Yer funeral," replied Jack indifferently, examining his fingernails.

Barbossa leaned slightly over the table. "But not yer wife," he whispered with a sweetish smile.

Jack stared at his fingernails with great intensity. "I thought ye were to talk about the weather," he said with stern patience.

Barbossa inhaled loudly, his mood deteriorating. "Are ye sure we can't plot a different course?" he asked somewhat annoyed.

"Ye don't have to be on deck," said Jack finally looking up at him. "Ye can hide in here," he said with a smirk flickering across his lips.

"Very funny," replied Barbossa dryly.

"Always envyin' me sense of humor, aye?" said Jack, staggering to his feet.

"Where are ye goin'?" asked Barbossa, knitting his eyebrows in slight bafflement.

Jack shot him a look of surprise. "I thought we've finished."

Barbossa sighed. "So ye're goin' t'sail right through it, aye?" he demanded angrily, narrowing his eyes.

"I think I've said that already," said Jack with a grimace. "If ye can't keep up with what I'm saying just start taking notes."

Barbossa was about to respond, when the door burst open, revealing Ragetti's concerned facial expression, which, for some reason, sent shivers down Jack's spine.

"Think this storm's rather startin'," he said hesitantly.

Jack sighed with relief, but then wrinkled his forehead. "We were supposed hit it tomorrow night," he muttered peevishly.

Ragetti shrugged his shoulders.

"I see ye in perfect control, _captain_," observed Barbossa with a sneer.

* * *

The sea was black. As black as the night sky above it. Black, fierce waves were crashing against the sides of the _Black Pearl_, but it was only the beginning. The ocean was waking.

Standing at the helm, Jack looked up at the sky. It was soon to be raining, but as for now, there was only the immense blackness above, sparkled with stars. Stars...

"_...a stormy, starry night..." _That was what she wanted. She wanted to know what it feels like. She wanted to know what she likes. She wanted to know what she does well.

She wanted to know that she is a pirate, even without knowing that she wanted to know that.

The rain began to fall, but it was still only a very light drizzle.

"Mister Gibbs!! The helm!!"

* * *

Jack rushed into his cabin, and opened an old armoire. The door cracked open with a loud noise. He steadied himself at the wardrobe door. The ship was rolling on the angry waves, rocking violently.

After a quick scrutiny, he grabbed some clothes from the armoire, a pair of black boots, and a hat. Then he stormed off, slammed his cabin door shut, and without knocking he walked into Elizabeth's cabin. She woke up at an instant, as the door opened noisily.

"Jack!" she sat upright in bed, watching him with drowsy bewilderment. "What's-"

"How do you feel, Lizzie?" he asked concernedly, bending down, and cupping her face in his hands.

She blinked, baffled. "I'm all right," she muttered, staring him deeply in the eyes, trying to figure-

"Are you sleepy?" he inquired, looking at her searchingly.

The truth to be told, she was little drowsy, or rather giddy from the sudden awakening, but the curiosity for what was happening prevailed. She shook her head.

"Good," he said throwing some unrecognizable things on the bed. Elizabeth squinted to see better in the dim light of the only lantern burning in the cabin. Put these on, luv, and the boots," he lightly kicked her soft slippers away, replacing them with the black heavy boots.

"Jack, tell me what's happening?"

Jack stopped in his tracks, leaned towards her, and brushed her hair behind her ears. "And don't forget to tie your hair, and put a hat on," he grabbed the hat, and place it awkwardly on her head.

"Jack-"

He silenced her with a brief, soft kiss. "We'll see whether you're good at steering the ship through the stormy, starry night, luv," he whispered with a smile.

She blinked, stunned into silence, not really knowing why she felt shivers going up and down her spine. She smiled at him with endearing hesitation.

"Are you serious, Jack?" she asked in a barely audible whisper, the dizziness, and drowsiness gone within a moment.

He grinned at her, and cupping her face once more in his hands, whispered:

"Deadly serious, luv. Hurry up."


	25. Chapter 25

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 25**

Elizabeth did not think that Jack was serious. Steer the ship... No, he could not be _entirely_ serious. Her mind was processing the endless chain of random thoughts, as she was buttoning the shirt, and pulling the breeches on. The boots were little too big, but they fit surprisingly well, nevertheless. She grabbed a brush, and began brushing her hair, noticing that her hands were trembling. Why was it so? She smiled nervously to herself, tying her hair with a ribbon. She put the hat on, and sighed excitedly. She did not know why she felt this way, but there was something overwhelmingly elating in the entire situation. She felt as if she was getting closer... Getting closer to... herself, to the recognition, to... the memory? No. Actually, somehow she did not think it had anything to do with the memory. Unless it was connected with the memory of herself... Who was she? The question bothered her, exhausted her. Except for those moments when she did not care... Those moments in his arms... Only then, she did not care, she did not care about anything. Or rather... In those moments she knew who she was... Even without knowing it... If that made sense... which it did not... or did it?

When she reached for the coat the ship rocked violently, and she fell to the floor. Was this that _drizzle_ that he was talking about?

She flung on the coat, and dashed out of the cabin. Jack was waiting for her, leaning against the wall next to her cabin door. He looked her up and down with a smile.

"How do I loo-", she started, but the ship jerked suddenly, and she fell straight into Jack's arms.

"You look beautiful, 'Lizbeth", he said, straightening her hat with a smirk.

She narrowed her eyes mischievously, and did the same with his hat.

"Let's go, luv", he said smilingly taking her by the hand.

They rushed up the stairs, and when they finally got on the deck, Elizabeth gasped in amazement. It was not what she had expected. The night was black, and the roaring black waves of the furious ocean were crashing against the ship, splashing on the deck, attacking. The rain was pouring down in glittering torrents, blurring the vision. The sky was dark, and the storm was real. She shuddered, fear suddenly washing over her like cold wind.

"Thank ye!!", shouted Jack, his voice barely audible, veiled by the shouts of the waves.

Gibbs released the wheel with a nod, and Jack took the helm, dragging Elizabeth with him, placing her in front of him at the helm. She looked around in shock. She was sure she would not have been able to keep her balance, if it was not for Jack behind her, and the wheel before her. He put his hands over hers on the wheel. Then he withdrew one hand, and wrapped it around her waist.

Only maybe a minute has passed, and they we already soaking wet. She could feel his hot breath near her ear, and it sent shivers down her spine, and she did not know whether it was the storm, or rather him that enthralled her beyond comprehension.

She was terrified. She looked around wide-eyed, breathing heavily, gasping for strangely fresh, salty, intoxicating air. The wind was tugging on her clothes, and it surprised her that her hat did not fly away yet.

"You alright, luv?", Jack whispered into her ear. She shivered. His wet with rain lips brushed against her ear, as he held the wheel firmly in his hand, and only then she noticed, that now it was her hands that laid over his hand on the spokes, his other hand still securing her by the waist. She could not imagine how he could manage to steer with only one hand. The ship jerked, as it hit a wall of water, and it seemed as if the tormented sea overtook the ship for a moment, as the black water encompassed the deck, knocking down several people struggling to unfurl the last sails.

She did not answer his question, and he began to worry that perhaps it was not such a good idea after all. Maybe she was still weak after that accident, or maybe she was tired, as he quite mercilessly had woken her up in the middle of the night. At last, maybe she was simply scared, maybe she-

"I'm fine", she said, slightly turning her head, to see at least a part of his face.

"You don't have to be here if-", he whispered with feverish concern, his lips nuzzling her cheek.

"I want to be here", she breathed, and he leaned forward to look at her, noticing in amazement that she was smiling.

"Hold on to me", he said into her ear, the drops of rain from his hat dripping on her face. The rain was becoming heavier with every minute. The lightning crossed the sky, lightening the deck of the _Black Pearl_ for a moment. Elizabeth felt a sudden coldness in her heart. The rain, the night, the lightning... Her eyes unconsciously wandered to the main mast, and for a moment she thought that she saw some silhouettes there, but when she blinked, and looked again there was nothing. She must have had imagined it. Imagined... Remembered...?

Jack removed his hand from her waist for a moment, turning the ship decidedly. She felt his arms holding her tight in between them. He did not stop watching out for her even for a moment.

But strangely, all of a sudden she felt that she could watch out for herself quite well. Coming out of nowhere was the impression that made her feel suddenly strong. But the impression was brief, and she forgot about it at the sound of a thunder.

She instinctively leaned against Jack's chest, and when she tilted back her head, she saw the stars on the impeccably black sky. Stars. She smiled to herself. He remembered.

She felt his lips near to her ear once again. "You can do this, Lizzie. You can", he whispered, and she was not sure whether it were the rain drops, or light kisses that she felt sprinkled along her neck.

_Do what?, _she wondered, as her mind at last registered his words.

"Do what?", she asked confusedly through the rain streaming down on them, on the ship, and the sea, on the entire world...

"Steer the ship through it", came the answer, and her eyes closed involuntarily, as she suddenly found herself enveloped in the scent of the enraged ocean, angry rain, and his skin, him, so close to her.

He placed her hands on the spokes, and only then it finally dawned on her what he was doing.

"Jack, no, I can't, I don't know how, Jack", she tried to withdrew her hands, but his hands were stronger, and he did not let her pull away.

"Yes, you can, 'Lizbeth, yes you can", he murmured, and this time she was sure that it was not the rain, but his lips that kissed her ear.

She clutched the spokes hesitantly. His hands closed over hers. His hands... Somewhere in the back of her mind, involuntarily, she imagined those hands roaming all over her body... She pushed the thought away, trying to think clearly, trying to concentrate.

"Now", he whispered, catching her full attention. "Keep it as steady as you can, when I let go, luv."

_Let go? _Her eyes darted from the black horizon to the wheel. He was withdrawing his hands?...!

"No!", Elizabeth panicked, trying to stop him, but he only pressed her hands back to the spokes. She stiffened.

"I know you can do this", he said under his breath, leaning his forehead against the back of her head. "Ye're beautiful, brave, and invincible...", he slowly withdrew one of his hands. She clenched her suddenly solitary hand on the wheel, realizing with both fear and amazement, how difficult it was to keep it steady, how difficult it was to stand up to the tormented sea.

She moaned, on the verge of tears, suddenly feeling the coldness of the rain drops on her face.

"...ye're indomitable...", his voice was low, humming, soothing. She trembled, wordlessly begging him to leave at least his other hand over hers on the wheel, "...indestructible...", he squeezed her hand, before slowly pulling his hand away, "...undefeated..."

Elizabeth gasped, petrified with fear and terror, when his hand slipped off her hand, leaving the helm to her completely.

But he was still with her, he did not move away, he wrapped his hands around her waist, and rested his head on her shoulder.

She held the wheel as steadily as she could, forgetting about her tears and raindrops stinging her eyes, about the pain that was coursing through her body, as she put all of her strength into what she was doing. She just did not want to let go of the wheel.

Jack whispered the instructions into her ear, his voice stunningly calm, she wondered how could he be so calm, but she was not able to ask him. Why was he doing this to her? For a moment she was angry with him, she was furious. How could he... It hurt... Her hands hurt... Her eyes... And she was not even sure whether she could hold on long enough. The wave of exhaustion were gradually overtaking all of her senses.

"Relax, Lizzie", he whispered. "Relax, luv. Loosen the grip."

"I can't!", she screamed frustratedly.

"Let it go a little, 'Lizbeth. Don't fight the waves, just overcome them."

Was he mad?! She knew nothing of sailing, nothing of steering a ship. She was weaker than he was, and she was not even sure whether she was strong enough to hold the wheel in one place, and now he wanted her to perform some maneuvers?!

"I can't!", she shouted unable to voice all the frantic thoughts that were rushing through her mind.

"Who can if not you?", his hands travelled up from her waist.

She shook her head helplessly to signal her lack of understanding. She felt a sudden wave of heat washing over her, and she opened her eyes wider in astonishment, trying to figure out what it was, and then realizing his lips nuzzling her neck, kissing her rain-soaked skin.

"You are this sea...", he murmured between the kisses. "You are this night, and this wind, and the stars... And the tomorrow's sunrise, 'Lizbeth."

She listened to him mesmerized, letting the stiffness drift off, relaxing, holding the wheel with strength, but without desperation.

And then suddenly she saw it. The immensity laid bare before her. The waves screaming their undecipherable demands. And she noticed that the waves were not black. They were white-maned, and when they were crashing over the rails on deck, the blackness dissolved in milion shades of the iridescent darkness. Dark blue and dark green sparks glimmered underneath the coal black, ruffled surface of the waves.

And she was not trying to avoid the waves anymore. She was breaking through them, withstanding their piercing gazes, and persevering.

She looked around, dazzled, listening to the waves colliding with each other.

"Jack. This is... celestial", she gasped, and smiled, and looked up at the sky, at the twinkling stars, and at the shimmering ocean around her.

He smiled into her neck, and slowly withdrew his hands.

"Jack?", she shouted hesitantly.

He brushed his lips against her cheek, and whispered one last time before stepping aside completely:

"The _Black Pearl_ is yours, Lizzie."

Before she had a chance to protest, she suddenly felt the cold wind on her back, when he moved away. She wanted to turn around, and see where did he go, but she could not let go of the wheel.

If she turned around she could see, that he did not go away, that he merely took a three steps backwards, keeping a watchful, and amazed eye on her. She looked beautiful. Untamed, fatigued, soaked to the skin, smiling, laughing... Laughing?

Yes, he noticed now. She was laughing. She was laughing out loud. He smiled listening to her untrammeled laughter alternated with the roar of the waves, with the beating down of rain.

Elizabeth was standing at the helm, letting the unwonted wave of unutterable joy wash over her, carry her away, carry her through this madness, this storm, this journey. And she felt free, she felt purposeful and strong. She felt_... beautiful... brave... invincible... indomitable... indestructible..._ _undefeated..._

Jack cringed, suddenly feeling somebody's grip on his shoulder.

"What the hell are ye bloody doin'?!", screamed Barbossa, his voice muffled by the rain, but still dripping with venom. "I'm not goin' to drown for the sake of yer mistress' sailin' lessons!!", he shouted angrily.

"Go back to yer station!!", shouted Jack back sternly, pushing Barbossa's hand off his shoulder.

"Ye won't be givin' _me_ orders!!", squinted Barbossa, wiping the rain away from his eyes with his sleeve.

"And ye won't be deciding who's steering _my_ ship!!", retorted Jack.

"Jack!"

It was Elizabeth. She did not know whether he was anywhere near, but as she saw a huge wave forming on the right side of the ship, she called him nevertheless.

Jack approached her quickly. Barbossa snarled furiously, and rushed to the starboard.

"Turn toward it, Lizzie", said Jack, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"What?!", she exclaimed in disbelief. "Turn away, you mean."

"No." Jack put one hand over hers on the wheel, looking intensely at the ocean. "I mean toward it", he said solemnly, turning the wheel.

Elizabeth stared in horror at the black wave, now directly in front of the _Black Pearl_.

"She can take it", he whispered, and Elizabeth could feel his face right next to hers.

The wind was blowing the driving rain straight against them, severely limiting the visibility. Elizabeth looked at Jack out of the corner of her eye. His eyes were looking straight ahead, unblinking, shining, as if hypnotized by the sight before them, transfixed by the risk, mesmerized by the beauty of that danger, but, above all calm, stunningly calm, confident; loving.

She tilted his head, and kissed him quickly on the cheek. He grinned, without averting his eyes from the ocean, and then all of a sudden, whispered into her ear, stepping out of the helm: "Overhead."

Unable to speak, unable to breath, shocked that she was steering alone again, she grasped the wheel tightly, but then loosened the grip slightly, turned instinctively to the right, then to the left, and then to the right again, surprised by her own actions. Strangely, she just _felt _what to do, as if there was some enigmatic connection between her, and this ship, and this sea...

The wave came down suddenly, Elizabeth held her breath, and looked with disbelief at the wave disappearing smoothly under the _Black Pearl_. She smiled nervously, and laughed.

She laughed, but then suddenly she felt giddy, and she almost fainted, but somehow managed not to.

"'Lizbeth", gasped Jack appearing right beside her, and supporting her. "I think ye've done well and enough for tonight", he whispered, leaning her against him as she let go of the wheel. She rested her head on his shoulder, and smiled faintly.

"Thank you, Jack", she said in a low, miraculously audible in the rain tone of voice. "I have never felt that... happy before..."

He kissed her rain-streaked cheek, and smiled.

* * *

"We have just fixed the position of the _Black Pearl_!", announced happily "Bootstrap" Bill Turner walking into the _Flying Dutchman_'s captain quarters with a smile. 


	26. Chapter 26

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 26**

Will stood at the helm of the _Flying Dutchman _looking in dismay at the debris of a ship. The wreck burnt, and crackled.

"Always a terrible thing to see", said "Bootstrap" Bill Turner pensively, appearing beside Will.

"Yes", replied Will sadly. "We need to carry them through."

"Aye", nodded "Bootstrap". But the _Black Pearl _is so near...", he added after a pause.

Will sighed. "First we need to ferry the dead. We get to the _Pearl _tomorrow." He smiled at his father faintly. "One day can't make much difference, can it?"

* * *

Jack had carried Elizabeth to her cabin shortly before the dawn. She had slept peacefully throughout the following day, until the dusk, when she finally woke up. 

She woke up to the sight of Mr. Gibbs watching over her, while Jack was apparently asleep. He had not slept right after the storm, but instead continued steering the ship, and watching over her. And only recently Gibbs finally managed to nigh force him to get some rest, promising to wake him up when Elizabeth wakes up.

"Oh no, please don't wake him up. He must get some sleep", said Elizabeth decidedly.

"That's what I was thinkin' too", nodded Gibbs with a conspirational smile.

To Elizabeth's surprise, there was a bath ordered for her to be prepared when she wakes up. She noticed then, that she was still wearing her yesterday's clothes, and her hair looked rather wild.

She gratefully slipped into the metal bathtub which was quickly set up in her room. The memories of the last night washed over her along with hot water.

"_You are this sea..." _She smiled to herself with a sigh. It was true. She had felt as if she was the sea yesterday. She had felt as if she was everything... As if she could be everything she wanted to be. The possibilities were incessant, the world was endless, the sea was limitless... And she was in the storm, and above it, outside of it, and within it, and she could defend herself, defend the ship... She could do anything... everything. The feeling was indescribable.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She could feel that wind, and that rain, and the scent of the sea, the scent of the air. She could see the colors of that night, pale stars, dark waves, silver raindrops, gold lightnings, the black sails of the _Black Pearl... "The Black Pearl is yours, Lizzie." _Yes, she remembered that too... His reassuring voice... His rain-kissed lips... His strong arms... His ringed fingers... Him.

Elizabeth slid herself deeper into the bathtub. The water was getting cold.

Ever since that day in the inn when she had looked in his eyes for the first time she has felt that there was a certain mysterious connection between them. A virtually timeless bond. As if she has known him. As if she has _always _known him. As if she has always... loved him.

_He was so caring... He cared for me... He cares for me. He does. I know he does. _She smiled to herself thoughtfully. _But... what does he feel... exactly... _She sighed, and bit her lower lip thinking intensely. She was tired of intense thinking. She needed to know. She wanted to know.

Elizabethswiftly got out of the bathtub, get dressed as fast as she could, and dashed out of her cabin.

So many times she had an impression that he acted as if something was chasing him, as if he was running out of time. Oddly now, she felt like this herself.

And she needed to at least tell him how she felt, before her courage evaporated, before (her? his? the?) time was up.

* * *

Jack could not sleep. Strangely enough, he was not even tired. He was not physically tired. But his mind was exhausted, his mind was falling apart. His mind _was_ tired. 

He tossed and turned, and could not stop thinking. No matter how hard he tried, he could not escape the thoughts that were haunting him, stalking him, breaking through every mental border that he tried to set up, and keep.

If at least those thoughts were the same as before... Concerned with the truth... with running away from the truth... with erasing the truth... with the sense of guilt...

And actually... the sense of guilt remained. But it could not prevailed, somehow. The sense of guilt was giving up.

The sense of guilt...

Jack put his arm over his head, and stared blankly at the dark ceiling.

Dreaming of her was easier when she was out of reach. Then at least he had known that it was only a dream, nothing else, nothing more. A dream. The dream. His only true dream.

A true dream. If he had a right to use the word "true" anymore.

He loved her. And he wanted her to be happy. And the link between those two notions were non-existent. Or was it...?... She looked so happy that night, against the tormented ocean, against the black sky, in the pale light of the stars, in the rain, in... his arms. But perhaps it was only the storm that made her happy... Steering the ship through it... And not him.

He wanted to go to her, and kiss the past away, kiss the truth away, kiss... Just kiss her. Just hold her. Just be with her.

He sat upright on the bed.

But he could not be with her, he thought grimly. What was he doing? She will never forgive him. For lying to her, for deceiving her, for taking advantage of her state... For losing the key, for taking the ring. She will have only too many reasons to hate him.

He should have told her right away, right on the very first day when she had regained consciousness. And now was just too late... So late... So very late...

Jack staggered to his feet. No, it was not too late. He should not think that it was too late. It was never too late. Enough of it. He has done enough. And it was the high time to end it. And he will end it. He will end it now.

He grabbed the knob, and sharply opened his bedroom door.

Elizabeth gasped in astonishment, almost falling over.

She had knocked on the door, but nobody answered, so she had pressed the knob, and the door happened to be open. So she had come in, and seeing that the cabin was empty, she was going to knock quietly on the door on the right side of the cabin, and when she was about to knock, the door burst open.

"'Lizbeth", Jack blinked, stupefied.

"I-I'm sorry, Jack. I just wanted to see if you're still sleeping, I wanted-I wanted to tell you something", she said hesitantly, suddenly feeling very nervous, almost choking on the words.

He looked at her in silence for a moment, and it puzzled her.

"Jack", she started again cautiously, but he cut her off.

"Lizzie, I want to tell you something too", he said looking at her with the mixture of desperation and anxiety.

She gave him a small smile, quite intrigued, but still more focused on what she had to tell him.

He took her by the hand, and sat her down on the bed.

"Lizzie-"

"Jack, no, let me tell you first-"

"No, let me-"

"No, no, I really have to tell you now, if I won't tell you now-"

"No. I'm sorry, but if _I_ won't tell _you_ now-"

"Jack-"

"Lizzie-"

He was going to tell her. He was really going to tell her. And he would have told her. He really would have told her, if she would not have cut him off once again, and whispered something that he has never dreamt of hearing:

"I love you."

He blinked.

She took his hands in hers. "I love you Jack", she repeated with a hesitant smile, trying to decipher the impression that her words made on him.

He stared at her in silence, and she felt cold shivers running up and down her spine. So she was wrong. So he did not... Her smile paled.

"I'm sorry", she muttered, quickly rising to her feet before the tears could manage to escape from under her eyelids.

_Why why why why you had to say this 'Lizbeth Lizzie luv why why why_ _God forgive me_

She reached for the knob with her trembling hand, but then, all of a sudden, he grabbed her, and spun her around, locking her in his arms. She stared at him, bewildered, tears drying out from the surprise caused by his behaviour. She was afraid to smile, but she did not want to cry. She waited.

He looked at her, knowing well what he should say. Despite everything, or maybe even exactly because of what she had said, he should tell her. _Tell her. Tell her. To hell with ye if ye won't tell her now. Tell her!_

Jack took Elizabeth's face in his hands, and leaned towards her.

She felt as if the entire world...

_..."entire ocean"..._

...as if the entire world has stopped. She looked at him expectantly. Curious, frightened, hopeful, baffled. She could feel her heart beating furiously in her chest. He looked at her, his eyes dark, fathomless, hypnotizing, ablaze.

_Tell her tell her tell her tell..._

"Lizzie...", his voice was low, husky, faltering. She stared at him in silence. "Lizzie..."

_...her tell her tell her this..._

"I love you too", he whispered, and trailed off, his heart racing. _Not THIS!!!_

Elizabeth blinked, her face brightened up, lightened, aglow. She smiled, the most beautiful smile he has ever seen, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

"Jack, I-", she started smilingly, but the words have drifted off.

He crashed his lips against hers frantically, closing her in his arms, pulling her closer, planting fiery kisses all over her face, her neck, whispering some words that she could hardly make sense of. Asking her to forgive him. Then saying that he loved her. Then something about being sorry. Then something about loving her too much.

She listened to every word, drank the words and kisses from his lips, burned under the touch of his hands, letting his hands free her from the dress, from hesitation, from everything that she did not know of, did not want to know of, could not know of. It crossed her mind that she was doing something wrong. Only she could not really decide what this _something wrong _might be. What could possibly be _wrong_, if it felt so _right_ to be in his arms, to feel the warmth radiating from his body, and enveloping her, to feel his lips claiming hers with breathtaking tenderness.

She pulled his shirt over his head, impatiently tracing the lines of his past on his chest, on his back, turning them into _her_ lines. Kissing away the long-gone pain inscribed in his scars.

He brought her face near to his, and whispered, his breath brushing her face like the wind the day before, but warmer, more intoxicating.

"Liz-Lizzie... Are you... Are you certain...", he said rather than asked, running his hands through her hair, struggling to open his eyes, and look at her, wanting her to say that she is not... that she is... that she is not... that...

"I love you Jack", she whispered with a smile, leaning into him, brushing her lips against his sliding her lips down his neck, his shoulders, feeling him shiver, feeling herself tremble, when he gently cupped her face once again in his hands, only this time his hands were burning hot, setting fire to her skin, to her heart, to her mind.

"Promise me, 'Lizbeth...", he murmured, between soft kisses.

"Anything", she gasped.

"Promise me... you won't forget... that I love you...", said Jack in a barely audible, but strangely solemn, almost pleading whisper.

Elizabeth smiled. "I promise", she said very quietly, her head sinking softly into a pillow, when he laid her gently on the bed. She closed her eyes, her hands searching for him in the dimly lit darkness. "Promise me too", she breathed with a sweet smile.

"I promise", he whispered breathing raggedly, smiling at her, his smile vitiating the meaning of everything else apart from this moment.

He listened to her soft voice whispering his name over and over, her hands travelling across his body, shockingly smooth against his bare skin.

She opened her hazy eyes, and looked at him, his face hovering close above hers, smiling. He gently brushed loose locks of her hair away from her face, and kissed her with passion that was slowly filling every inch of her body, every corner of her heart, every string of thought.

He kissed her until she could not hear anything else but his enthralling voice chanting her name, until she could not feel anything else but him, until she could not think about anything else but him.

Until she forgot everything, everything that she remembered, everything that she could not remember... Until the world disappeared, leaving her entangled in the emotions emitted by his heart, and his body. Until his closeness became everything that mattered. Everything that she wanted to matter. Everything that she could yet understand, before she closed her eyes, shanghaied into the infiniteness of love that was almost tangible, love that she could feel under her fingertips memorizing the chart of his skin, tracing the emerging memories that she was determined not to lose, learning by heart the tone of his voice in its all varieties.

His touch was gentle, timid, loving, he was caressing her in wonder, trying to believe that it was really happening, trying – for once – to push all the _superfluous_ thoughts away... And for once... managing to push them all away successfully.

And that night the truth did not matter anymore.

That night, the truth has died,...

...only secretly awaiting to be resurrected.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Spoiler: Take a wild guess;)

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 27**

_What a beautiful dream... _Jack slowly opened his eyes.

"Lizzie...", he muttered with a smile, stroked her hair, and closed his eyes again.

_Lizzie... Lizzie... Liz- _His eyes flew wide open. _Oh bugger. _

He looked at her, at this dream that was not a dream, and gently pulled her closer. She shifted in her sleep. She was real. She was real, and she was laying in his arms. She was real, and she was laying in his arms in his bed. She was real, beautiful, and... his. The memories of the last night flashed across his mind. He involuntarily grinned to himself, brushing his lips against her forehead, twirling a lock of her hair around his finger.

_Lizzie... My Lizzie..._

He did not want to think about... about... about? He could not even remember what was that thing that he did not want to think about. He gently caressed her face with the back of his hand, her words echoing enchantingly in his head: "I love you Jack." He smiled at the ring on her finger. _His_ ring. He kissed her hand. _His_ hand. _I won't lose ye this time, Lizzie. My Lizzie._

Elizabeth woke up to the sight of a pair of mysteriously alluring, enticingly dark, brown eyes staring at her dreamily. She smiled, as Jack pulled her closer to him, tightening his embrace around her.

"How long have you been _not_ sleeping, Jack?", she asked softly, almost touching his lips with hers as she spoke.

"Not long enough to look at you long enough, luv", he replied with an impish smile, kissing her gently on the lips.

She smiled at him brightly, and brought her hand to his face, caressing it lightly. He stroked her hair, brushing the loose strands away from her bare shoulders. She shivered.

"Cold?", he asked sincerely worried, and pushing himself up on an elbow kissed her shoulder, before pulling the cover over it.

"I'm not cold", she chuckled, childishly snuggling her face into his chest. "I'm embarrassed", she added in a muffled voice, wrapping her arm around him.

"Ah", said Jack knowingly, hugging her closer. "Well", he cleared his throat, suppressing a smile, "I'd be too if I were you..."

Elizabeth looked up at him immediately. "What do you mean?", she asked with a hesitant smile, gazing at him with anxious amusement.

"If _I _would come into_ your_ cabin-", he started matter-of-factly.

"I just came to tell you-", broke in Elizabeth defensively sitting upright on the bed.

Jack pushed himself up, and sat facing her. "That ye adore me, and then ye no doubt expected me to courteously walk ye back to yer cabin, and wish ye good night, aye?", he wiggled his eyebrows, and smirked.

Elizabeth stared at him, narrowing her eyes in mock-irritation. "I did not-", she laughed, hitting him playfully on the shoulder, but he prevented her from finishing her sentence by pulling her into a fiery kiss. She unconsciously let go of the cover that she had been holding tightly to her chest, and found herself pressed against his naked body with her bare skin. And it felt as wonderful as the day before. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him back down on the bed, and over her.

Jack broke the kiss, grinning at her roguishly. "Shall I perhaps", he whispered, brushing his lips against her neck, "_embarrass_ you again, luv?"

She laughed, sifting his dreadlocks through her fingers. "You most definitely shall not", replied Elizabeth firmly in an amused tone of voice.

He planted few more kisses along her neck, and then looked at her, smirking.

"I'm afraid I don't take 'no' for an answer", he pressed his lips against hers, letting her deepen the kiss.

"And why is tha-", asked Elizabeth breaking the kiss, and trying to sound indignant, but failing terribly when her voice turned into a gasp, as his hands began wandering arrogantly all over her body.

Jack gave her an impish smile, and whispered: "Pirate."

"_Pirate." _Oddly, the word reverberated in her head, but only until he kissed her again.

Elizabeth traced the outline of his lips with her fingertips, and smiled.

* * *

"And where will we sail after finding the Fountain of Youth?", asked Elizabeth quietly, nestling her head into Jack's neck, as they laid cuddled against each other tightly. 

"Everywhere you want to, luv", replied Jack smilingly, slowly running his hand up and down her arm. "We'll go everywhere, and I'll show you everything, and we'll get you all the beautiful things from all over the world."

"What things?", inquired Elizabeth inhaling his scent, and his words with a smile.

"Pearls in China, diamonds in Southern Africa, rubies in Madagascar, sapphires in Thailand, silk and cashmere in India-"

"I want a parrot", cut in Elizabeth in a muffled voice, nuzzling his neck.

"A parrot?!", Jack looked at her amusedly.

She looked up at him, and laughed. "Yes, a parrot. A colorful one."

Jack leaned into her, and kissed her softly on the lips. "All right. We'll get ye a parrot, luv."

"And I want it to talk to me", added Elizabeth challengingly, resting her forehead against his.

"Done, darling", whispered Jack, sifting her hair through his fingers.

Elizabeth giggled, brushing her fingertips along his jawline. "And I want it to sing", she whispered sweetly.

"Sing?!", Jack looked at her with exaggerated disbelief.

"Yes", nodded Elizabeth with a grin, entangling her fingers in his hair, and kissing him deeply on the mouth.

"A singing parrot for me pirate princess", muttered Jack with a thoughtful smile, cupping her face in his hands. _...my Pirate King... _The sense of guilt suddenly flooded over him, but it flowed away immediately as she spoke in a silky whisper:

"I love you, Jack."

He looked in silent wonder at her hair falling softly over his chest, at her smooth arms wrapping around his neck, at her glimmering eyes boring into his with love, with trust (_trust)_, with admiration.

"I love you, Lizzie", he whispered ardently, bringing her lips to meet his in yet another tender, feverish, unforgivable kiss.

* * *

Gibbs jumped up in his seat at the noise of the dining quarters door slammed shut, as Barbossa entered the room with an annoyed expression on his face. He shot Gibbs a grim look, before taking his place by the table. 

"Can ye tell me what's the name of that sailor with a parrot instead of a tongue?", he asked all of a sudden, scrutinizing the food at the table.

Gibbs looked up at him, puzzled. "Cotton", he answered hesitantly. "An' why?", he decided to ask after a pause.

The door burst open again, as Pintel and Ragetti rushed inside the mess in noticeably good moods, being apparently in the middle of a very lively conversation. Barbossa looked at them sternly, erasing the smiles from their faces.

"I just", said Barbossa, turning to Gibbs, "want to know the name of a captain of this ship, as it seems that Mr. Cotton is the one spending most time at the helm", he snapped angrily.

Gibbs chuckled.

"Where the bloody hell is Jack? It's hours past midday", Barbossa asked irritably.

"Well, I convinced him at last to rest after that storm, he hadn't-", Gibbs broke off, glancing curiously at Pintel and Ragetti who visibly struggled to hold back laughter.

"What is it?", asked Barbossa through his gritted teeth, glaring at them.

Pintel chuckled, pointing to Ragetti. "Last night, 'e saw the poppet walkin' into the cap'n's quarters."

Barbossa raised his eyebrows sceptically. "And?", he asked blankly, grabbing a bottle of rum.

Pintel smiled. "But she's ne'r walked out."

"She's ne'r walked out", echoed Ragetti, chuckling.

Gibbs stared at them wide-eyed for a moment, before shaking his head resignedly. He wrinkled his forehead, and sighed heavily.

Barbossa, on the contrary, looked very much amused. "That's interesting."

"What's interesting?"

Everybody looked up as Jack swaggered into the cabin.

"Oh, nothing." Barbossa waved his hand dismissively. "But if I were ye, I'd make sure that I won't die at sea, ye know", he said with a sneer.

Jack looked at him briefly with his eyes narrowed, and then darted his eyes to Pintel and Ragetti, who kept chuckling, and smirking. Pintel gave Jack a sweetish smile in a response to his stern look, and grabbing some food, dashed out of the cabin along with Ragetti. The door slammed shut, and Jack slumped into a chair at the table, catching a sight of Gibbs giving him an annoying, guilt-inducing look, which he pretended not to notice.

"Still thinking 'bout death? We're well past that storm, don't worry", said Jack, looking with exaggerated interest at the table.

Barbossa snarled slightly. "Well, I'd still prefer that in the future ye find a better way to seduce a woman than letting 'er crash the ship."

Jack ostentatiously looked around the cabin with a very surprised look on his face. "This ship is not crashed, or am I missing something?", he asked curiously.

"Aye", nodded Barbossa somewhat irritated. "Ye actually _are _missin' somethin', an' this somethin' happens t'be our agreement which ain't include puttin' our lives in mortal danger _prior _to obtainin' immortality." He took a swig of rum, and continued: "And we owe the fact of _not_ crashin' the ship _not _t'yer dearly beloved doubtful navigational skills, but to that storm _not _bein' as perilous as it was presupposed to be."

"If we presuppose that _that _storm was _the _storm that our f_r_iend was talking about", said Jack, reaching for a strangely looking purple fruit, and examining it with curiosity.

Barbossa looked at him searchingly. "An' what's that supposed to mean?", he asked suspiciously.

Jack sighed, putting the fruit away. "I told ye to start taking notes-"

Barbossa was about to interrupt him angrily, when the door cracked open, revealing once again Pintel and Ragetti, this time far from looking amused.

Even Gibbs, lost in thought for the last couple of minutes snapped back into the reality, and looked up at them.

"An' what is it _now_?", inquired Barbossa impatiently.

Ragetti swallowed, glancing at Pintel. Pintel glanced at Ragetti, and poked him in the side.

"Ye tell", he muttered.

"No!", Ragetti exclaimed defensively.

Pintel elbowed him again. "Come on", he whispered through his gritted teeth.

Jack raised his eyebrows. Barbossa rolled his eyes, and pulled out his pistol: "All right. Now I'll shoot one of ye, an' then the other can tell."

Pintel shook his head. "It ain't necessary", he smiled nervously. "It's...", he poked Ragetti, giving him a knowing look.

"It ain't fair t'make _me_ tell", shrugged Ragetti."Ye've spotted it first."

They both jumped slightly as Barbossa cocked his pistol.

"Alright, it's a ship. The ship's right next to us", said Pintel quickly.

"What ship?", asked Barbossa with artificial patience.

Pintel looked at Ragetti. "I said the first half", he hissed.

Ragetti grimaced. "It's...", he started hesitantly. "It's...", he swallowed, and then quickly finished his sentence, "It's the _Flying Dutchman_."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N: _**Thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 28**

Barbossa chuckled, and shook his head in amusement. Gibbs blinked. Jack stared blankly at Ragetti.

"Are they... firing on us?", asked Jack cautiously after a moment of awkward silence.

Pintel and Ragetti quickly shook their heads in unison.

"Good", acknowledged Jack in a hollow tone of voice.

"But", started Pintel hesitantly, "they asked for the permission t'come aboard."

Gibbs buried his head in his hands.

"Permission granted", said Barbossa with a chuckle, before Jack managed to give any answer. Jack shot Barbossa a blank look.

Pintel and Ragetti promptly shifted their eyes from Barbossa to Jack, looking at him expectantly.

"Aye. Granted", he muttered wrinkling his forehead, and rising quickly to his feet, heading for the door. Gibbs rushed after him.

"Jack!", called Gibbs catching up with Jack in the hall.

"What?", inquired Jack with a frown.

"She will understand...", said Gibbs reassuringly.

Jack shot him a questioning look.

"Ye're goin' to tell her now, right?", asked Gibbs in a hinting tone of voice.

Jack looked at him for a moment pensively knitting his eyebrows, but said nothing. He pressed the knob, and walked into his cabin, closing the door behind him, and leaving Gibbs with that irritating guilt-inducing facial expression that he has lately acquired alone in the hallway.

Jack leaned against the closed door, and sighed. He turned his head and looked sadly at Elizabeth's sleeping form visible through the ajar bedroom door.

_Ye're a bloody bastard. Bloody selfish bastard. And ye don't even regret it, do ye? _

_What do they want anyway? _He quickly changed the focus, passing the blame for the non-comfortability of the situation to the unwanted visitors rather than his own faults. Maybe they had sent somebody to where Elizabeth had been living to see whether she was all right, and then learned that she has been missing, and... Or maybe they even had heard about that accident... But how? Or perhaps they has just accidentally surfaced near the _Pearl_? (He liked that one.) Or...

Elizabeth woke up, and opened her eyes, lazily straightening up in the bed. To her surprise she noticed Jack standing against the cabin's door. He seemed to be looking in her direction, but his gaze was blank, and absent-minded. He looked worried. Elizabeth quickly slipped out off the bed, wrapped herself in a white blanket, and tiptoed bare-footed towards him.

He looked up only when she was already very near, and smiled at her, but she had a strange impression that the smile was almost sad.

"Is everything all right, Jack?", she asked concernedly, cupping his face in her hands.

He looked at her for a moment in silence, and then pulled her towards him, closing her in an embrace, and resting his forehead against hers.

"Aye", he muttered, closing his eyes, wishing that this moment would last. Unchangingly, forever.

"You don't have to lie to me, Jack", she said softly. His eyes snapped open. "Tell me what is wrong?", she asked with a sweet smile, this smile that he has never seen _before_, in that other life that had been noiselessly tracking them down, until it finally found them now. Only she did not know anything about it. And he did not want to know anything about it either. He wanted this smile, that was only his to last, to stay, to never go away. He would make sure it would never go away. He would make sure that she will always have reasons to smile.

_But... Maybe... After all... Now..._

"Nothing", he said automatically, tracing her lips with his fingertips.

Elizabeth smiled, took his hand in hers, and kissed each of his fingertips. "Tell me", she insisted, in an almost playful tone of voice.

He studied her face in silence, in wonder, in frustration. How could he tell her? How could he tell her now? He snorted to himself. How could he _not _tell her?

Yet, maybe there was still a chance that it was just an unlucky accident... Something accidental... A false threat... A threat?! He was just looking for excuses, for yet more excuses, as if he has not used them enough already. Excuses? Hardly. Less than that, in fact. Pretexts. Mere pretexts. Life-saving pretexts. Essential pretexts. Essentially unforgivable pretexts.

He pressed his lips to hers softly, thinking back to that day in Tortuga when she had found him there for the first time. He had not seen her for a year. _"I'm here to find the man I love." _Oh, what bizarre things he had been doing with that phrase in his imagination. And yet, knowing that they were bizarre, at least at that time, he had never really given up on them. And now it was all true. It was all real. It was all happening, and he had no strength to shatter it, to throw it away, to... fix it? He should fix it. He _should _fix it.

Fix what?

He pulled her closer too him, and she took a step forward, putting her bare feet on his boots, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him so sincerely, so frankly, so transparently, that it sent cold, guilt-ridden shivers up his spine. How could he be doing this to her? How could he...

How could he what?

His thoughts disarranged themselves as he deepened the kiss. She was everything that he has ever wanted. The sudden realization startled him, frightened him, dragged him yet further away from that doubtful path to forgiveness which, actually, was not even likely to be granted...

Breathing raggedly, and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, he just asked her not to walk out of the Captain's Quarters until he will come back, for there was another unexpected ship coming, and the ship's intentions were yet unclear.

* * *

"Well, well, well, look who is here", said Barbossa smilingly, welcoming the visitors. 

"Good to see ye", said Gibbs, trying to sound as cheerful as possible, shaking hands with both "Bootstrap" Bill Turner, and Will.

"Good to see you too", answered Will with a small smile, slightly baffled by Barbossa's presence aboard the _Black Pearl_. Despite all that had happened on their last journey, he did not expect Jack to permanently get along with Barbossa once again. "We've been trying to get to you for quite a while", he said, glancing at his father, suddenly realizing that Bill Turner has not met Barbossa since...

"Good to be seeing you too, Bill", said Barbossa in a casual tone of voice extending his hand towards him.

There was a moment of awkward silence, as Bill Turner looked at Barbossa's outstretched hand, as if it was some kind of a strange-looking sea creature.

But among pirates grudges were not a useful privilege to be cherished.

"Aye", muttered Bill Turner shaking Barbossa's hand with a distant smile.

"And where is Jack?", asked Will, changing the subject.

Gibbs was about to answer, but was cut off by Barbossa.

"Ye've the most _enviable_ timin', t'be sure", he said amusedly.

Gibbs blinked rather nervously.

"We're just havin' a meal", added Barbossa with a grin.

"Aye", Gibbs nodded enthusiastically.

* * *

Jack stopped abruptly in front of the dining quarters door. He could hear the voices coming from the inside. _They_ were there already. 

He stared at the door half-considering walking away from it, and going to the helm, pretending that he had not been informed about _their _presence on board, and therefore postponing the meeting.

But it was infantile and worse still pointless.

Or wasn't it?

No, no. It _was _pointless.

He would probably continued his inner struggle if it was not for some crew members coming down the stairs. He pressed the knob almost irritated that it was necessary to press a knob in order to open a door. Knob. What a funny word. Ridiculous really. Starting with a letter that did not even got to be pronounced. What a nonsense. What a-

"Oh, at last", said Barbossa with artificial cheerfulness. "I almost thought ye _forgot _about us."

"How could I", answered Jack looking at Barbossa sternly, focusing at him, even though he was probably one of the most disliked sights of his life. But somehow he stared stubbornly at the left side of the room in which Barbossa was sitting by the table. Out of the corner of his eye, on the right side he could see Gibbs, and two other people.

"How are you, Jack?"

An outstretched hand suddenly appeared before Jack as if out of nowhere. He reluctantly lifted his eyes from the hand to its owner.

"_You've planned it from the beginning!" _

"Good, and... you?", Jack shook Will's hand, looking at him without blinking, half-expecting that if he blinked, he would find a dagger pressed to his throat.

Will smiled weakly in response.

"_You knew this!" _

"Jack", Bill Turner smiled.

"Ah", Jack took his hand out of Will's with well-concealed, but overwhelming relief. ""Bootstrap" Bill... Turner", he almost choked on the last name, only subconsciously realizing that he has not said or even thought that name explicitly in the last several days at all.

Bill shook Jack's hand, noticing with curiosity that it was icy cold. He remembered when his own hands were like that back when the _Flying Dutchman _had sailed under Davy Jones. He looked at Jack, but Jack averted his eyes, going swiftly to the table, and slumping into a chair.

Soon he regretted taking his place so rapidly, and not waiting first for everybody else to sit, for while on his right hand side sat Gibbs, on his left hand side sat Will.

"So... what brings ye here?", asked Gibbs with all too happy a smile.

Will exchanged glances with his father. "Well", started Will, shooting a brief look at Barbossa. "We would like to talk to you", he said, turning his head to look at Jack, who stared straight before him. Will continued looking at Jack, who seemed unaware that Will's words was directed to him. Will took a look at the door (as it seemed that it was what Jack was staring at), wrinkling his forehead in slight bafflement, but nothing about the door struck him enough to continue looking at it. He cleared his throat. "Jack?"

"Yes?", asked Jack somewhat interestedly, still looking at the door, and reaching for the bottle of rum.

Will gave Gibbs first, and then his father a what's-wrong-with-him-this-time kind of look, but Bill Turner just smiled faintly and confusedly in response, while Gibbs grinned exaggeratedly.

Barbossa, on the other hand, seemed to pay no attention, preoccupied with stuffing food on his plate.

"We would like to discuss something with you", repeated Will patiently, as Jack finally made an inevitably bound to pass rather unappreciated effort to look at him. "In private", he added glancing at Barbossa meaningfully.

Barbossa looked up from his plate, a sneer flickering across his face. "Oh, it's up to the captain who stays, an' who leaves, I reckon", he said slightly narrowing his eyes. "Should I stay, Jack?", he asked, looking at Jack with mockingly meek expectancy.

It was not very difficult to decipher that something was going on. Will darted his eyes from Barbossa to Jack, who was looking at his former first mate with cold condescension. Will glanced at his father, who was watching the scene observantly.

"Should I?", repeated Barbossa with a glimpse of satisfaction in his eyes, as if he has already known the answer.

Gibbs rubbed his forehead, and cleared his throat.

"Actually", Jack noisily put the bottle of rum down on the table, a sudden irritation building up within him. "No, I don't really think ye should."

Gibbs choked on the rum that he has been drinking, spilling some of it on the table. Barbossa, to Jack's rather gloomy, but still satisfaction seemed clearly shocked. But only for a split second, after which he quickly regained his composure. Jack raised his eyebrows staring at him steadily.

As much as Barbossa would obviously enjoy turning the convoluted situation into an ordeal, he knew that revealing everything at the moment would bring no profit. He would have never got the map, as well as he would have never learned the location of the chest. And he could see that reasoning in Jack's irritatingly confident, grim gaze.

"I see", said Barbossa through his gritted teeth.

Jack reached for the abandoned bottle of rum, averting his eyes from him disinterestedly. Barbossa staggered to his feet, glaring at Jack. Gibbs, wide-eyed, stared at his own hands clenched around his rum. Will narrowed his eyes studying the scene with mild interest.

Seeing that Barbossa still stood by the table, as if expecting Jack to take back what he had said, he looked at him, and asked with obvious annoyance in his voice:

"Anything ye want to add?"

"Jack...", Gibbs chuckled nervously, finding Jack's provocation rather risky at the moment.

"Maybe", snapped Barbossa angrily, knitting his eyebrows.

"Go ahead", retorted Jack, very annoyed at that point already, having enough of Barbossa's disgusting self-confidence and odd comments in the last few days.

"Jack", muttered Gibbs, forcing a smile.

"Maybe I will", said Barbossa, wrinkling his forehead in irritation.

"Please do. Can't wait to hear it", returned Jack, glaring at him challengingly.

"Is that so?", asked Barbossa threateningly.

"It is so", replied Jack.

"Jack", gasped Gibbs, glancing at Will and "Bootstrap", who listened to the argument not too intently, and looked rather baffled, not really knowing what was it all about.

"Ah", snarled Barbossa.

"Ah", snorted Jack.

There was a moment of silence. Will sighed, tired of listening to the pointless word battle while he had a very important issue to discuss.

"Very well", hissed Barbossa at last, storming off the mess.

Jack narrowed his eyes somewhat triumphantly. He picked a green apple from the plate, and threw it at the door after it slammed shut behind Barbossa.

Will suppressed a smile.

"Master Gibbs", said Jack in a firm, calm, but slightly impatient tone of voice. "Could ye be as kind as t'go an' make sure that that bemusing blackmailer won't go on disarranging the furniture in the Captain's Quarters now that he feels evicted an' embittered."

Gibbs looked at him perplexed. Jack shifted his eyes from the door to Gibbs, and glared at him. The glare enlightened Gibbs.

"Aye!", he exclaimed rising to his feet with a nervous smile, and rushing out of the cabin.

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Having a tough time, lately, I see", observed Will with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

"Ye've no idea", mumbled Jack grimly, staring blankly into the distance.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

I felt so awful that we didn't have a cliffhanger at the end of the last chapter... I think we should make up for it...

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 29**

Elizabeth tiptoed back to the bed after Jack had left. She pulled the cover over herself, and laying on her side stared at the pillow which still had Jack's head shape impressed in it. She put her hand over the pillow and smiled, at the same time feeling on the verge of tears. She missed him. As ridiculous at it may be, she missed him, even though he had left a minute ago, and he was going to be back soon. She even considered getting up, and running after him, but she tried to talk herself reason. She was almost annoyed with herself.

Yet, it felt so sweet. Missing him felt sweet, because she was certain that he will be back.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, losing herself in the intoxicating memories of him... of them, which softly carried her into her sleep.

After a quarter of an hour however, she woke up with a start, and with a nagging headache. She refreshed herself, and got dressed grimacing from pain which seemed to be radiating from her head, gradually overtaking her entire body.

It was that sound again... And this time not only a sound, but also some images... Shimmering, blurred, vexing... She walked to the small cabin window, and covered her ears, trying not to hear-

-and then she saw... She saw a ship. The ship looked dreary. Dreary, and dreadfully... familiar.

Somebody screamed. Elizabeth spun around frantically. But the cabin was empty. Somebody screamed... in her head.

Somebody... Was it her?... She screamed... Why?

Elizabeth began pacing around the room...

... trying to match the pace of sounds and images that all of a sudden began rushing towards her...

* * *

"Why is he on the _Pearl_?", asked Will, when everybody was gone from the mess, except for him, his father, and Jack. 

"It's a rather long story", answered Jack grimly, rising to his feet, and taking off his coat, suddenly feeling too warm, while only a moment ago he had felt freezing cold. "He had stolen the _Pearl _few months ago, but then returned with her to Tortuga", added Jack in the manner of explanation, throwing the coat on a chair in front of him on the other side of the table.

"Why?", asked Will.

"He's needed a certain map which he'd hoped to find on the _Pearl_, but it wasn't there", answered Jack growing tired of giving oddly long answers to the superfluous questions.

"Why wasn't it there?", inquired Will after a pause.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Is this a hearing?", he looked at Will with slight annoyance, but averted his eyes very quickly.

Will raised his eyebrows. And then it crossed his mind what may be the reason for Jack's slightly dafter than usual behaviour, and his avoidance to look him in the eye.

"Is that map ye've mentioned by any chance-", started Bill Turner, but was cut off by his son.

"You don't have to feel bad about it, Jack", broke in Will in a suddenly solemn tone of voice, looking at Jack intently.

Jack darted his eyes to him in cautious astonishment.

"I know you feel bad about me stabbing the heart", started Will looking thoughtfully into the distance. Jack looked at him unblinkingly, his forehead slightly wrinkled. "But I hold no grudges. If I hadn't stabbed it I would've been dead... altogether. It's a grim fate, but not as grim as it would be otherwise. Especially that I still have something to look forward to", said Will with a faint smile.

Jack's mouth twitched, but the twitch did not turn into a smile. "Aye", he muttered, glancing at "Bootstrap", and noticing in his eyes a trace of thoughtful analysis which he did not like. "So why are ye here?", asked Jack changing the topic, and trying to sound casual in order to prove Will's reasoning as to his former behaviour right. He therefore forced himself to look at his interlocutor. It was not all that difficult after all, but unpleasant nevertheless. He did not know whether it was more unpleasant because of the feeling of guilt and disgust towards himself, and his own lies, or rather it was because, to his bewilderment, he just could not stand the thought of somebody else ever touching _his _Lizzie. Even if only once, long time ago, in the world that no longer existed...

"We'd wish to find the Fountain of Youth", said Bill Turner smilingly with a sigh.

...it struck him that perhaps the feeling that he has been mistaking for the sense of guilt, was in fact... jealousy. Jealousy. He has never been jealous before. It felt strange. Strangely intense. Bitter. Angrily bitter. Sense of guilt did not feel half as bitter as that.

"Jack?" Jack looked up. Bill Turner looked at him questioningly. "I said that we'd wish to find-"

"The Fountain of Youth", cut in Jack mechanically, as his mind had subconsciously registered the words.

Bill nodded.

"The Fountain of Youth?", repeated Jack, the meaning of the words suddenly reaching him.

Will smiled involuntarily, wondering whether it was the lack, or rather the abundance of rum this time that caused Jack's erratic concentration at present

"Aye", chuckled "Bootstrap". "Do ye remember-"

"Funny story, since it's where I'm heading right now", broke in Jack, trying to sound at least indifferent, if not cheerful, while in the reality the idea of sailing in the same direction, side by side with the _Flying Dutchman _did not appeal to him too greatly at the moment.

"Oh, really?", Bill Turner smiled contentedly.

"Aye-", began Jack, but then glanced suspiciously at the door. Will and "Bootstrap" followed his gaze, watching in bewilderment as he jumped to his feet, and swiftly getting to the door, opened it in one quick movement.

The door opened rapidly, revealing a small crowd of six or seven pirates, who heavily fell to the floor, surprised by the sudden loss of the door against which they have been leaning.

"Anything ye'd be interested in seeing?", asked Jack sourly, as they were clumsily staggering to their feet.

"N-no, we ju-just", stammered Pintel.

"Anybody interested in walking the plank, then?", inquired Jack huskily.

They shook their heads, hurriedly walking out of the cabin. Jack noisily slammed the door shut behind them. "Bloody bloodthirsty eavesdroppers", muttered Jack under his breath.

Will and "Bootstrap" exchanged half-amused, half-confused looks.

"And may I inquire as to why are ye interested in the Fountain?", asked Jack, going back to the table. "Can one be _more _immortal than one already is?", he added, managing to smirk for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.

"That's not it", replied Will pensively.

"What is it then?", asked Jack interestedly, wrinkling his forehead.

"The water from the Fountain", answered Bill Turner. "It can lift the curse", smiled "Bootstrap", explaining in detail how he had found out about it, and what were his reasons to believe that it would really work, that it was true.

The word "true" echoed unpleasantly in Jack's head, but he pushed the thought aside. In fact, he was feeling more and more confortable, only briefly wondering what had worried him so much about this meeting, about this conversation. After all it did not require a greater than usual amount of deceitfulness. Perhaps it did not require deceitfulness at all. Only a little avoidance of certain topics, thoughts, and mental associations.

"Ah", acknowledged Jack thoughtfully.

Lift the curse... Will would be free... Without conditions... Without making anybody responsible for his coming back to life... One sin less. Not bad, really. Except that...

"Great idea", said Jack blankly, suddenly struck by the realization that lifting the curse would not be indeed the end of troubles, but rather the beginning of them.

"I knew ye'd say that", smiled Bill Turner. "Perhaps we should then just follow the _Pearl_?"

Jack looked at him almost ruefully. "Underwater or... on the surface?", he asked after a pause.

Will blinked in confusion, and raised his eyebrows. "Does it make any difference?", he asked sceptically.

Jack knitted his eyebrows pensively for a moment. "No", he said at last, sounding rather sceptical himself. "I'm just curious."

_Curiosity... That's a nasty reference, mate_, thought Jack to himself, retrieving, not without some relief, the debris of his inner sense of humor.

"Well, actually, we cannot stay on the surface all the time", admitted Will with a sigh.

"Oh", acknowledged Jack with a very insincere compassion in his voice, which Will, quite unlike his father, did not seem to notice.

* * *

"Miss Elizabeth?", Gibbs knocked on the Captain's Quarters door for the third time already, and for the third time he received no answer. 

Maybe she did not hear him? Maybe she was asleep? Maybe she... was not there? The last possibility made him really nervous. What if she had felt hungry, and had gone to the dining quarters? The image of her walking into the mess right now flashed through his mind, accompanied by the feeling of cold dismay. He sighed. Jack should really have told her. What a situation. He knocked again. Silence.

After a moment of hesitation, he decided to just walk in, so he pressed the knob, and entered the cabin.

"Miss Elizabeth?", Gibbs called hesitantly, looking around. The main room was empty. He moved to the side door, and knocked. Once again, no answer reached him. "Miss?" Cautiously, he opened the door. "Miss Elizabeth!", he exclaimed rushing towards her motionless form that laid on the floor.

* * *

"I think we'll be going", said Bill Turner rising to his feet. 

"We can meet up again tomorrow to see the map, and discuss the course", added Will matter-of-factly.

Jack made his best not to glare at him. "That's a truly terrific idea", he said, forcing a grin.

Will walked around the corner of the table, and then he accidentally poked the chair over which Jack put his coat. The coat fell to the floor, and Will bent down swiftly to pick it up. But when he picked it up, something slipped from the coat's pocket. A small, gold object rolled straight under Will's feet. Will reached for it indifferently, and was going to simply put it on the table, when he glanced over it casually, and... froze, astonished.

Jack blinked. _Bugger._

Will looked at the ring, and then looked at Jack.

_Buggerbuggerbuggerbugger_


	30. Chapter 30

A/N: _**My wonderful reviewers: thank you so much for your beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 30**

_Should've thrown bloody ring overboard should've thrown bloody ring overboard_

Will stared at the wedding ring in shock, reading the letters inscribed on it over and over again, even though there was really not much to read, except for the two letters joined by "&", and by the vows exchanged not even a year ago on a rainy battlefield set up by fate on board this very ship that he was aboard right now.

Bill Turner glanced at Jack, whose face was expressionless.

"Where did you get that?", Will managed to ask at last, looking at Jack with a grimace of astonishment rather than anger; oddly.

"Where did I get what?", inquired Jack innocently, not really knowing yet how he was going to deal with the situation. His mind revolving involuntarily around the only one thought: the fear of losing her.

"This", answered Will irritably, showing him the ring that he held between his two fingers.

"Oh, this", acknowledged Jack disinterestedly, scoffing himself in his mind (for the hundredth time already) for not throwing the bloody ring overboard.

"Yes, this", repeated Will with astounding patience, not even reaching for his sword, which impressed Jack greatly.

"I don't really know", replied Jack, looking around the cabin as if in search of inspiration. "I found it somewhere."

"You found it somewhere", echoed Will incredulously.

"Aye", nodded Jack. "Ye can... well... have it if ye like it. I don't really need it", he said with a cautious smirk, bringing his hands to his eyes, and examining his own rings briefly.

Will stared at him in silence for a moment. "Do you know what this is?", he asked after a pause, almost peevishly, but still not really angry.

Jack looked at him squinting naively. "No. And what is it?", he asked with genuine interest, glancing furtively at "Bootstrap", who looked at him thoughtfully, reminding him of Gibbs, and his guilt-inducing facial expression.

Will looked at the ring, sighing heavily. "It's my wedding ring", he said in a low, and sorrowful tone of voice, keeping his eyes on the ring.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, shifting his eyes from the ring, to Will's face, then to the ring again.

_His _ring?

"Oh", said Jack in a most surprised tone of voice that he could muster. "Oh, now I remember", announced Jack happily.

Will looked at him intently.

"It was floating on the water, and", Jack waved his hand chaotically, "Mr. Cotton's... parrot", Will raised his eyebrows, "caught it, and brought it on board", concluded Jack with a smile.

"_...after you tricked me on the Flying Dutchman..."_

Will did not say anything. He looked back at the ring, and then, all of a sudden... he smiled, causing Jack to blink in perplexity. _Don't get too joyous. _

"_I'm not a simpleton, Jack!"_

"It's unbelievable", said Will almost dreamily.

Jack was going to protest, but Bill Turner's gaze held him back. "Bootstrap"'s gaze was sad. Nothing less, and nothing more than sad, but it was enough to cause Jack to feel very cold once again.

So maybe there was a shade of guilt in what he came to consider to be only jealousy, after all.

"I dropped it into the ocean few days ago, and now I find it here...", said Will, staring at the ring thoughtfully.

"That's... certainly... interesting", observed Jack in a low tone of voice, still not really allowing himself to think yet that his explanation has been actually accepted. Sometimes people believe too easily in things in which they want to believe very hard. _More luck than deserved, ye have, that's for sure._

Will closed the ring in his palm, his eyes wandering around the cabin absent-mindedly. "Have you...", he started quietly, barely above a whisper, "have you heard from Elizabeth?"

The question was simple, casual, quite natural, actually, and asked in an almost toneless tone of voice, yet, it nearly swept Jack off his feet.

Why was he asking him this question? There was not a trace of suspicion in his voice, yet, Jack found the question strange. Elizabeth. Was he asking about _his Lizzie_?

Will had an impression that Jack looked as if he was trying to remember who she was.

And actually... he _was _trying to remember who _Elizabeth_ was. He forgot about that. He forgot that she was Elizabeth. He forgot that she was-

"Have you heard from my wife, Jack?", asked Will in a tone of voice that was far from ironic, although Jack tried hard to sense the irony in it. But there was none. It was yet another simple question...

...which he had a right to ask; which he had a right to phrase the way he phrased it; which hurt.

Hurt? It should rather make him feel guilty. But it did not. It just made him sad. And even little angry. And sad. And it hurt.

Has he heard from Elizabeth...?... Suddenly, a thought flashed through his head, carrying light across his darkened by grim thoughts mind.

Yes, he actually has. The last thing he has _heard _from _Elizabeth _was: "I wish we have met before." Her last words before she lost consciousness after that accident in Tortuga.

But it was not a good answer to be given at the moment.

All these thoughts were swirling in his mind in between the actual words that he uttered out loud: "No, I haven't."

* * *

Gibbs picked Elizabeth up from the floor, and laid her on the bed. At least she was breathing, but she was unconscious nevertheless. He tried talking to her, but it did not seem to work. He even tried sprinkling some cold water over her face, but it did not work either. His initial idea to go to Jack was rather... not good idea under the present circumstances. She was very pale, and it worried him. He did not know what to do. 

And then, to his relief she opened her eyes.

"Thank God", Gibbs smiled at Elizabeth with a sigh.

She slowly propped herself up on her elbows, and looked around. Gibbs' smile twitched. Elizabeth blinked with a grimace, and then looked up at Gibbs.

"I just had a strangest dream...", she said quietly, putting her hand to her forehead, and closing her eyes for a moment.

* * *

Jack put his hand on the knob of his cabin door, ready to open it, but then hesitated. He drew back his hand, and decided to go somewhere else first. 

The rum. He needed rum. He needed a lots of rum.

The rum cellar was dark and for the first time in his life he disliked its darkness. It unpleasantly mirrored his mood at the moment. He sighed, and reached for a rum bottle, uncorking it slowly, and thoughtfully.

"Care to hand another bottle to an ol' friend?"

Jack jumped up at the unexpected sound of somebody's voice. He turned around.

"I thought ye went back to the _Flying Dutchman_", he said cautiously, glancing right, and left, as if in search of something...

Bill Turner smiled faintly. "Aye. William did", he paused, as Jack turned around to grab the other bottle of rum. "But I told him I stay a bit more to look around the ol' place."

"Ah", nodded Jack, handing him the bottle, and taking a seat next to him."Sentimental, are we?", he forced a smirk, and took a swig of rum, staring absent-mindedly into the distance.

Bill nodded, looking pensively at his rum. "Ye know", started Bill, as if he was talking to himself. "He's doing quite a work out there. I'm proud of 'im. I couldn't wish for a better son. He's all grown up. Smart too."

"Aye", answered Jack blankly.

"And it's funny that with all this", he stopped, gulping some rum down his throat, "he still believes in floating rings", he finished thoughtfully, glancing at Jack, who sat motionlessly, still staring into the distance.

"I'm not dramatically surprised, actually", said Jack after a moment of silence, in a supposedly amused tone of voice. But the words came out as toneless as ever.

"Jack", said Bill in a low, but slightly expectant tone of voice.

"Aye", muttered Jack, lifting the rum bottle to his lips with strange difficulty, as if it was very heavy.

"Would ye mind telling me what's going on?", asked Bill cautiously, looking at Jack with sincere concern.

Jack turned his head, and looked at him with solemn sadness. Then he looked away, and they both just drank in silence for some time.

"Have ye ever", started Jack at last, speaking under his breath, "had a dream that was in every possible way impossible, and yet it came true?"

Bill seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Yes, I did", he replied with a thoughtful smile, almost surprised by his own answer. "I wanted t'meet my son, and have 'im forgive me."

Jack nodded, and put away the empty rum bottle.

"And what did _ye _want, Jack?"

"I had lost a battle", answered Jack quietly, his eyes fixed apparently on some unidentified figments of his imagination, "that I had never really fought. And I wanted to win it."

"Fairly impossible, indeed", observed Bill, looking at Jack pensively. "Did ye win it?", he asked almost indifferently, taking the last swig of his rum.

Jack darted his eyes to the floor, and it looked like a nod, but it was not too clear. "Only it wasn't a fair battle", he muttered, wrinkling his forehead.

Bill sighed. "No battle is fair, Jack."

"This one could be", said Jack decidedly.

"Would ye win it then?" Bill gave him a questioning look.

"I don't know", he answered after a pause.

"Would ye do it again?", asked Bill tilting his head to the side.

Jack sighed, his eyes wandering around the rum cellar. "Undoubtedly", he confessed tiredly.

"Why was it unfair?", inquired Bill after a longer moment of silence.

"It _is _unfair", corrected him Jack. "It still is", he added quietly, in a consolatory tone of voice, "yet..."

"Why _is _it unfair, then?", asked Bill, resting his back against the wall.

"Because I attempted to win it without saying that I had lost it before", answered Jack grimly, blinking, as if the darkness was suddenly hurting his eyes.

"Nobody tells stories of lost battles, Jack. That's not cheating. That's human", remarked Bill matter-of-factly.

"Where's the difference?", Jack looked at Bill raising his eyebrows.

"In motivation. And in how good it is", replied Bill firmly.

"Is greed a good motivation?", asked Jack sardonically.

"Bootstrap" gave him a small smile. "I don't believe that's the case."

"Well then", snapped Jack irritably. "Is envy a good motivation?"

Bill shook his head, a ghost of a smile still flickering across his face. "I don't think that's the story either."

"Is lust?", inquired Jack impatiently.

"No", replied Bill firmly. "But accusing oneself of vices instead of admitting the virtues in order to show off goes under pride, so I can give ye the credit for _that _deadly sin if ye really want to commit one of those so badly", said Bill in a fairly serious tone of voice.

Jack looked at him searchingly. "I may assure ye I have them _all_ mastered", said Jack with a slight sneer.

"Do not flatter yerself", answered Bill with a weak smile.

Jack narrowed his eyes, and was about to retort, when the door to the rum cellar cracked open.

"Here ye are", came a relieved voice of Gibbs, as he noticed Jack in the cellar. "Quick!"

"What's happened?", asked Jack swiftly rising to his feet.

Gibbs sighed. "I don't really know...", he said worriedly.


	31. Chapter 31

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

This chapter is dreadfully long, so bear with me;)

Spoiler: Ah!!! (Hope I didn't scare you, did I?)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 31**

When Jack stormed into his cabin, Elizabeth was sitting on the edge of the bed, clutching the sheets frustratedly, and staring with absent-minded stubbornness at the wall.

"Lizzie...", he called her softly, standing in the doorway. She turned her head immediately, and looked at him.

So it finally came. That moment. When she remembers. And now she-

Jack's grim thoughts were interrupted, when Elizabeth jumped up off the bed, and threw her arms around his neck.

A sweet "not yet" flashed across his mind.

"Oh Jack. I was right", she gasped, pressing herself against him as close as possible.

He closed his arms around her protectively. "Right about what, luv?", he asked, stroking her hair.

"That I've done something terrible", she whispered, snuggling her face into his neck. He could feel her tears on his skin.

"Lizzie...", he tilted back his head, and propped her chin with his hand.

She looked at him sadly, tears streaming down her cheeks. He leaned down, kissing the tears away, which, paradoxically, made her cry even more.

"I don't deserve this", she sobbed.

Jack almost shuddered at that. He cupped her face in his hands. "Lizzie, don't even-"

She tugged on his shirt with a pained expression on her face. "I killed somebody, Jack", she said in a faltering whisper.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and shook his head. "Lizzie-"

"I had that dream", she broke in, cutting him off, "I think I killed somebody... I felt that I had done something terrible... And I was right...", she closed her eyes, speaking quickly, as if trying to catch the words as they were flashing across her mind. "There was blood in that dream", she grimaced, "and a knife... And handcuffs... And I saw myself with a sword... And I put irons around somebody's hands... And I hit somebody on the head with a bottle... Maybe I even killed more than one person", she opened her eyes, and looked at Jack with desperation in her eyes.

Jack stared at her wide-eyed, stunned into silence. He just wanted to dismiss it all. He wanted to dismiss all of these intertwined memories, and tell her that everything was all right.

"Lizzie... It's nothing. You've done nothing wrong", he said reassuringly, caressing her face, and hugging her close.

"Don't do this!", exclaimed Elizabeth all of a sudden, pushing him away. "Don't comfort me. I don't deserve it", she whispered, bursting into tears. "I killed somebody. I know it. I feel it", she collapsed onto the bed, crying.

Jack half-laid on the bed next to her, and hesitantly stroked her hair. "Please, listen to me, Lizzie. You did nothing wrong. I swear."

She tilted her head to the side, and looked up at him with a ghost of a smile flickering across her lips. "You don't believe me, do you, Jack?", she asked softly, while he ran his fingers slowly across her face, tracing her jawline with his fingertips. "You don't believe that I really killed somebody", she whispered, and her mouth twitched, as if she was about to cry again.

"Lizzie", he murmured, bringing his face nearer hers, "you did not kill anybody", he said decidedly, looking her intensely in the eyes. "Besides", he added after a pause, "even if you did, which you didn't, it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't matter even if you killed me", he smiled at her with strange intensity, looking her deeply in the eyes.

Elizabeth averted her eyes with a sigh, and absent-mindedly tapped the bed cover with her hand, looking at it blankly. "I'm bad", she said plainly.

Jack rolled his eyes, and grabbing Elizabeth by the waist rolled her over, landing on top of her, and pinning her hands to the bed. She looked at him wide-eyed, her eyes still glimmering with tears, a small, confused smile flickering across her face.

"Now, luv, repeat after me", said Jack in a resolute, mock-menacing tone of voice, staring down at her.

Elizabeth tossed her head, and looked at him with expectant curiosity.

"I am...", started Jack.

"I am...", she echoed, blinking.

"...the most wonderful-"

"Jack", Elizabeth cut him off in a timidly amused tone of voice.

"The most wonderful...", he insisted in a whisper, descending his face upon hers, his lips hovering over hers.

"The most wonderful...", repeated Elizabeth quietly, staring at him with quizzical intensity.

"...noble, beautiful, courageous...", he enumerated in a very serious tone of voice.

"Noble", she snorted under her breath.

"Lizzie", Jack shook his head threateningly.

"Noble beautiful courageous", she said softly, her eyes wandering over his face, inches above hers.

"...fascinating, flawless, virtuous-"

Elizabeth burst out laughing. "Jack, you're making fun of me", she said with a smile.

"Just on the contrary, luv", he said in a solemn tone of voice.

She looked at him thoughtfully in silence for a moment, then slipped one of her hands out off his grip, and brought it to his face, delicately running her fingertips across his cheek. "Jack", she said in a barely audible whisper.

"What is it, Lizziebeth", he asked entangling his fingers in her brown, gold hair, remembering when he had stroked her hair in that room in Tortuga when she had laid still unconscious, when he was afraid that she might have been upset with him, if she would have known that he had been doing this.

"Make me forget... Make me forget all these things that I don't remember", she said in a quivering tone of voice, looking at him sadly.

He smiled at her faintly, and brushed his lips against hers. She closed her eyes. "As of late", he whispered, kissing her eyelids, "I'm hardly doing anything else but this, luv."

* * *

"This is a fine cellar", said Gibbs decidedly, when Jack ran upstairs, leaving him and Bill Turner in awkward silence. 

"Aye. A fine rum cellar", nodded "Bootstrap" with an absent expression on his face.

"That's right. It's a rum cellar", agreed Gibbs with a half-smile.

"So it is", whispered mechanically Bill Turner, thinking about something else. "It's all my fault", he added almost inaudibly.

Gibbs squinted. "Beg pardon?"

Bill looked up at him, and sighed. "If he wouldn't have promised me... to come back for me... maybe he would've stayed away from the _Dutchman_, maybe everything would've happened differently...", he said ruefully. "I hadn't given him the time of my life that he had a right to be given when he was a child, and instead, I've even taken the time of his life, that I haven't had a right to take", he trailed off, exhausted. "All my fault", he added in a whisper, staggering to his feet.

"I'm afraid it's a bit more complicated", observed Gibbs with a sigh.

Bill Turner looked at him blankly. "Does she love him?", he asked pensively after a moment of grim silence.

Gibbs wrinkled his forehead worriedly. "She had an accident", he started, staring at the floor. "And she's lost 'er memory 'cause of it. She doesn't remember anything, an' anybody" he looked up at Bill Turner, who listened to him intently. "And we didn't tell 'er the truth... an' all... 'bout the past."

"Ye may forget a person. But ye can't forget a feeling", said Bill Turner with a sad smile.

Gibbs looked at him sceptically.

"Unless there's something wrong with the feeling to begin with", he added quietly, heading towards the rum cellar's door.

* * *

Jack looked at Elizabeth guiltily, but she could not see it, laying in his arms with her eyes closed, her head resting on his shoulder, her skin noticeably white against his tanned body. 

Maybe he was worried over nothing? Maybe she would not run away first thing after remembering? Maybe...

But remembering was one thing. Telling the truth was another. It was impossible to go on like this now, with... _him_ stepping on the _Pearl _whenever he felt like surfacing or whatever the bloody maneuver was called, maybe even every day until they find the Fountain? He cannot just keep Elizabeth locked up below deck, not to mention Gibbs acting out as his bloody conscience, funny looks from the crew, Bill Turner looking depressed, and although not planning on telling on him, no doubt waiting for him to reveal the truth nevertheless. And to finish off the pretty picture, there was immortality obsessed Barbossa with the chart, with the key, and with his bloody schemes.

"And what did they actually want?" Elizabeth's soft voice shook Jack out of his thoughts. He smiled at her faintly, and she smiled back at him, looking him deeply in the eyes.

"Who, luv?", he asked, already knowing what she would say, but prolonging giving her an answer, even a false answer, for no particular reason nonetheless.

"People from that ship", she muttered, kissing his shoulder.

"Ah", he grimaced disgustedly, looking away.

"'Ah' what?" Elizabeth cupped his face, and made him look at her. She looked at him, squeezing his face lightly and laughed.

Jack tightened his embrace around her. "Is there anything that ye find particularly amusing 'bout me face, luv?", he asked, his voice slightly muffled, because of her hands pressed against his cheeks.

She smiled, and leaned into him, planting soft kissed all over his face.

"That's amusing", he muttered with a smirk, closing his eyes, and finding himself suddenly in the darkness. He opened his eyes quickly, and locked his eyes with hers. She looked at him concernedly. He looked frightened, but not frightened in that obvious, ordinary way. He looked really frightened, deeply terrified by something she could not decipher. She leaned over his chest, resting her chin on her crossed arms, and stared at him thoughtfully.

* * *

"William", Bill Turner blinked in astonishment, running into his son on the _Black Pearl_'s upper deck. "I thought ye-" 

"I brought this", cut in Will bringing forward the old book in which his father has read about the Fountain of Youth and its wonders. "I thought Jack may want to read it", he said in a casual tone of voice.

"Oh", Bill Turner nervously rubbed his forehead. "Well", he said extending his hand to take the book. "I'll give it to him-"

Will shook his head. "No, I can do this myself. I wanted to ask him something yet. Is he at the helm?"

"No, but-", he trailed off, taken off guard by the suddenness of that awkward coincidence, unable to decide quickly what he should do.

"Captain Quarter's then", Will smiled casually, and headed down the stairs.

Bill Turner followed him with his gaze, not really knowing what to do. He thought that everything will be solved tomorrow, when they were going to meet in the morning, in the sunlight, and in better moods, and now... "William, wait", he said in a voice all too quiet to reach its addressee.

He sighed. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it was best to just let things happen, to let life flowed as it pleased, to let fate take care of its paths...

* * *

"You're not telling me something, Jack", Elizabeth said quietly, looking at him half-searchingly, half-admiringly, as if she was suspecting him of hiding her birthday present from her. 

He smiled at her weakly, sifting her hair through his fingers. Was it really going to be over? It seemed improbable. It seemed impossible to be over right now, as much as it had been impossible to ever happen before. And yet it had happened... Therefore...

"I've told you everything that matters, Lizzie", he said in a strangely solemn tone of voice.

She gave him a small smile. "So why are you thinking of things that do not matter?", she asked, putting her hands on his shoulders, and resting the side of her face against his chest.

"Because they matter", he whispered exhaustedly, running his one hand up and down her back, while entangling the other in her hair.

"Why do they matter if they don't?", she asked with all seriousness, holding her breath for a moment when his chest raised, and then exhaling when it fell, to make her breathing match his.

"Wish I'd know that, luv", he muttered, twirling the locks of her hair around his fingers, breathing in her scent, the scent of her presence, of her being with him, of her belonging to him; of her, of Lizzie, of his Lizzie.

She closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. It was fast and quiet, and soothing.

"Lizzie...", her name escaped his lips almost involuntarily.

She raised her head, kissed his chest, and looked up at him with an expectant smile.

"We have met before", he whispered tonelessly, looking at her with a pained expression on his face.

She blinked, and slightly wrinkled her forehead. "What?", she asked, smiling.

"We have known each other before that accident in Tortuga", he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking at her steadily.

Elizabeth shook her head confusedly. "I don't... understand", she said quietly, her smile fading.

He gently pulled them both to the sitting position, and cupped her face in his hands. She looked at him in bewilderment, beginning to comprehend the meaning that his words have conveyed; beginning to realize that he was serious, that he was overwhelmingly, shockingly serious.

"I wanted to have one day with you without anything, and anybody else", he said in a low tone of voice, in a tone of voice that she has never heard before. It was firm, and faltering at the same time, but above all it was desperate, hurried, and heartbreakingly sad. "One day. To just see you, hear your voice, talk to you, look at you, be with you without the world, without the past, the present, the future, without the context. Just you and me", he brushed his thumps across her lips. "Just you with me for one day. It was what I had dreamt of, and somehow it happened, and I just couldn't let it go without taking that chance of having one, only one day with you." She stared at him wide-eyed, trying to understand, trying to follow the feverish flow of his words. "And I wanted to tell you, Lizzie, tell you on the next day, but then on the next day... it was all the same... it was so beautiful... you were beautiful... and you... liked me... and I thought that maybe you could... feel something for me... and I just couldn't tell you about... him, because then you would have never sailed off with me", he leaned his forehead against hers, breathing raggedly, still frustratedly cupping her face in his hands. "I love you, 'Lizbeth", he whispered with a transfixing determination in his voice. "I just love you. I've always loved you, and I had lost you once... No, not once", he looked away, squinting. "Many times", he looked back at her, staring into her eyes, which were becoming more hazier, and terrified with each passing moment. "And that time, this time, I just decided not to lose you. I couldn't lose you again. So I've lied to you. I've made another life, another world for you, for us, for once I've tried to be truthful for I've never told you that before, I've never told you how much I've always cared for you ever since... And I couldn't tell you the truth without lying, because lying was the only way to tell you the truth." Elizabeth looked at him stunned into silence, unable to speak. Tears began rolling down her cheeks, blurring her vision, blurring the outline of his face. "Lizzie", Jack whispered apologetically with a grimace, trying to wipe the tears away with the back of his hand.

And she did not even know exactly why she was crying. She could not quite comprehend the reasons for crying yet, but she felt that something irretrievable, something irretrievably terrible has just happened... was happening; that something was going to be over, or lost, or not the same, she did not know, but she knew that it was going to hurt, she could feel that pain already, and it was taking her breath away, it was twisting all her thoughts, it was questioning all her feelings. She did not know what was happening anymore, why she was where she was, why she probably should not be where she was. She did not know what was true, and what was only a figment of her, or somebody else's imagination. She was lost in her own mind, and everywhere else. She was completely lost. And she did not know what to do.

"I need, I need to... think", Elizabeth absent-mindedly, mechanically freed herself from Jack's embrace, and slid off the bed, subconsciously grabbing a blanket, and wrapping it around herself, feeling cold, suddenly feeling very cold; again. She could hardly keep her balance, not really knowing whether it was because the ship was swaying, or because she felt like fainting from that dull, nagging pain circulating through her entire body.

He tried to stop her, timidly, hesitantly getting hold of her hands, but she, with equal hesitation, and timidity, but decidedly nevertheless drew them back, reaching for the knob, and walking into the main cabin bare-footed, not even noticing not having her shoes on, hardly noticing anything, maybe except some strange feeling of heavy sadness falling over her, a familiar feeling of bitter emptiness, overwhelming exhaustion, and frightening loneliness engulfing her like cold mist.

She pressed the main door knob, and wanted to walk out of the cabin, but could not, for there was somebody standing in the doorway, with his hand raised, as if he was about to knock on the door, which all of a sudden, unexpectedly opened before him all by itself. He had a large, worn out book in his hands, which fell down to the floor with a loud thud.

She glanced at the man without recognition, and she was not sure, but she thought that when she walked past him she heard him say, in a very quiet, disbelieving, metallic whisper:

"Elizabeth...?"


	32. Chapter 32

A/N: _**My wonderful readers & reviewers: thank you so much for your amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 32**

Will stood transfixed, watching Elizabeth disappear inside the cabin located door to door with the Captain's Quarters. For a moment he could not even move, or form any coherent thought. Was it really her? Or perhaps he was just hallucinating? No, it was her, but... why she walked past him as if she did not know him?

He leaned against the wall, his unseeing eyes wandering around the hall, glancing at the Captain's Quarters door that was still ajar, and at the door leading to the cabin where Elizabeth had walked in. Captain's Quarters... His eyes darted to the book that he had dropped. He blinked. Jack's cabin. It was Jack's cabin. She had walked out of Jack's cabin. Will knitted his eyebrows in bewilderment, the exact image of her suddenly emerging from his mind, and reappearing before his eyes, and he felt a sudden wave of unpleasant heat washing over him when he realized that she was barefooted, and wrapped only in some kind of white cloth. And she was walking out of... No. Maybe he really was hallucinating. He desperately wanted to see her, and that was why his mind was playing tricks on him.

Unless his mind was not playing tricks on him... Will looked around confusedly, not knowing what to do first. Go to the Captain's Quarters, or to that cabin... At last, he decided to first check whether it was really her whom he had seen. He hesitantly knocked on the cabin's door, not sure why exactly he was even knocking, but feeling decidedly too dazed to think about skipping those superfluous, mechanical, polite formalities at the moment.

Receiving no answer, however, he cautiously opened the door, and stepped into the cabin.

The cabin was dimly lit, but not too dark. At the end of the bed, with her back turned towards the door, sat a girl wrapped in a white blanket, her dark blond hair falling softly over her back, and her shoulders, her head hidden in her hands, and her body shaking from the sobs that were almost inaudible, but he could hear them nevertheless, he could recognize them anywhere, his heart would break at the sound of these sobs, no matter how far, and how deep his heart would have been locked, and hidden.

"Elizabeth", he whispered, half-hoping that it was her, half-hoping, oddly, that it was not her, not really knowing which one he preferred it to be...

She cringed, and slowly turned around.

A faint, involuntary smile flickered across Will's face. It was her. It was her. For a moment he felt overjoyed, but the moment was brief, and it passed as fast as it came.

"Elizabeth", he repeated, this time with a slight frown, with a question in his voice, with a trace of disappointment.

She looked at him blankly, and suddenly remembering her incomplete clothing she wrapped her arms around herself protectively. "It's my cabin. And I want to be alone", she said in a resolute, but still shaky from crying tone of voice.

Will wrinkled his forehead, and took a step forward. "Elizabeth... It's me."

"How do you know my name?", she asked with a frown, jumping out of the bed, and facing him, as he took few more steps towards her.

Will looked at her in confusion. "Elizabeth..."

"Who are you?", she took a hurried step backwards, painfully slamming her back against the wall that was right behind her. She grimaced.

"Are you all right?", he reached for her hand, but she evaded his touch, staring at him wide-eyed, half-baffled, half-terrified, trying to push away some thoughts that were beginning to circulate chaotically in her mind. "Elizabeth", he repeated, staring at her with the intensity that was sending shivers down her spine.

She clutched the blanket tightly around herself, and attempted to walk past him, but he unexpectedly grabbed her hands, obviously meaning no harm, but scaring her nevertheless.

"Help!", she screamed, not really knowing why, terrified not by the situation, but rather by some dull conviction that was pulsating in her head, almost like that sound was so many times before... That sound... Yes, and that sound too...

He looked at her in shock when she screamed. "Help?", he whispered incredulously. "Elizabeth, it's me", he tried to pull her closer, still holding her hands, just in mere effort to hold her attention, as she tried to brake free, the expression on her face giving him the impression as if she was suspecting him of attacking her. "What did they do to you?", he asked quietly, not really knowing whom he meant, looking at her with heartbreaking concern, which, paradoxically, made her even more desperate in her efforts to pull herself away from him.

"Let me go!" Her voice cracked, when the tears began streaming down her face.

"Elizabeth!", Will watched her in dismay, completely taken aback by her behaviour, knowing neither what to do nor what to think.

"Jack!", she screamed the only thing that came to her mind in connection with safety.

Will blinked in astonishment, letting go of her hands immediately. Too puzzled to speak he just stared at her in sad bafflement, trying to understand what was happening, and why she was acting as if she was scared of him. What had he done to deserve this?

Alarmed by Elizabeth's screams, Jack appeared in the doorway. He froze at the sight, feeling as if the entire world around him had fallen apart in one, brief, soul-shattering moment.

Will followed Elizabeth with his bewildered gaze, when she ran to Jack, throwing herself into his arms. He instinctively closed her in han embrace, only a moment later noticing Will's eyes fixed in dismayed astonishment on the incomprehensible scene before him.

"What is going on here?", Will heard himself asking, his mind struggling to connect with each other all the disorganized thoughts which were flashing across his mind at the moment. "What have you done to her?", he took few fast steps towards Jack who was still holding Elizabeth in his arms. She snuggled her face into his chest, her tears soaking through his shirt, strangely cold against his skin, cold like the sense of guilt itself.

"Can you wait outside", said Jack quietly, in a resolute, almost demanding tone of voice.

Will looked at him, as if he could not believe his own ears. "What is-", he was going to repeat his previous question, but Jack cut him off.

"Can you _please_ wait outside", said Jack through his gritted teeth, looking at him intensely, and opening the door wider with his one hand, his other hand still wrapped tightly around Elizabeth. "Can you for once do something _exactly _like I tell you." There was a strange, indisputable seriousness in Jack's voice, something too rare to be ignored, yet Will found himself hesitating. Hesitating? No, it was not hesitation. It was anger, slowly building up, trying to define itself, burning... But to his own astonishment, for reasons that he could not himself understand at the moment, or maybe simply because of the shock caused by the entire situation – he actually obeyed, and reluctantly, without taking his eyes off Elizabeth and Jack even for a moment, he slowly walked out of the cabin.

Jack kicked the door, slamming it shut after Will had left.

"Lizzie", he cupped her face in his hands. She looked at him, not able to see him too well through the veil of tears. "I'm sorry", he whispered, looking at her with a pained expression on his face.

She shut her eyes, and cried, shaking. Jack picked her up, and carried to bed, where he gently laid her down. "Sleep now, Lizzie, just sleep", he pushed the strands of her hair away from her face. "Close your eyes, and sleep, rest, you're tired. And then when you wake up-" He stopped in mid-sentence, realizing that saying "and everything will be all right" would be yet another lie. Nothing will be all right. Nothing could be all right anymore.

He tucked the cover around her, and sat on the edge of the bed. She laid on her side, looking at the cabin window, with her back turned towards him. The crying ceased, almost suddenly. She stared absently at the indifferently blue ocean outside the small window.

He had a feeling that some vicious force had turned back time, dragging her back to the state in which she was right after the accident. Lost, sad, terrified. Some vicious force... He snorted to himself angrily. _That'd be me._

"You knew who I was for all this time", she whispered, and it sounded almost like a question, but not exactly.

"Yes", he whispered almost inaudibly, looking at her with an effort. She did not look at him, her eyes still fixed on the window.

"All this time", she repeated with a sigh. Jack closed his eyes. All these questions which he had tried to escape, all those words that he had tried to avoid, all the past would now come crashing against him with double force. Cruelly. Deservedly. She would ask him why had he lied. She would ask him how could he have ever deceived her like this. She would ask him about her life, about her past, about... the ring, the key, about... Yes, certainly about-

He opened his eyes when she said something. She was still lying on her side, but her head was turned towards him. She looked at him, her eyes red from crying, her voice faltering, as she repeated her question which he apparently had failed to hear:

"How have we met?"

He stared at her with cautious wonder. From all the possible questions-

She pushed herself up, and sat upright in bed, putting her hands over his on the cover. "How have we met, Jack?", she looked at him with a sad, exhausted expression on her face.

He blinked, astonished by the question, by the gesture; astonished that she still wanted, could touch him. "You want to know how we've met, Lizzie?", he asked quite stupidly, his eyes wandering around her face questioningly, hopefully, hesitantly.

She nodded tiredly.

"You fell off... a fort in... Port Royal, and I... saw it, and... get you out of the water", he said slowly under his breath, furtively focusing his attention on her hands which she had put over his. He wished she would not take them away, and for a moment he wanted to grasp her hands in his tightly, and do not let go, never let go, but he was afraid that if he did that, she might pull them away.

Elizabeth looked at him in silence for a while, and when he almost thought that she will not say anything...

"You' ve rescued me from drowning?", she asked, her voice slightly steadier.

Jack looked at her for a moment before answering. He did not want it to sound like some kind of a heroic story that would seem to her like yet another lie.

"Technically-"

"What was wrong?", she cut in quietly, without letting him finish the sentence.

Jack wrinkled his forehead as if considering this for a moment. "You couldn't breath, 'cause your... corset was too tight, and-", he broke off, surprised by Elizabeth's smile. But it was only a brief, unintentional, unconscious smile, and in a second her face was again sad and solemn.

"What I meant was... what was... what went wrong between us... before?", she asked, looking at him intently.

He looked at her thoughtfully, a ghost of a distant, sad smile flickering across his lips, when he cautiously brought his hand to her face, and delicately ran his fingertips across her tears-stained cheek. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then at last Jack staggered to his feet, his hands reluctantly slipping out from under hers.

"Before", he whispered looking at her with rueful resignation. "There was no 'us', luv."

* * *

Jack walked out of Elizabeth's cabin, and slowly closed the door behind him. He leaned his back against the closed door, and sighed. And he did not turn his head at the sound of a pistol being cocked. He pushed himself away from the door, and directed his unhurried steps towards the Captain's Quarters. 

"What makes you think I won't shoot?", asked Will coldly.

"Ye mean apart from the fact that ye didn't already?", retorted Jack, slowly turning around to face him.

"Maybe I'm just not a backstabbing kind of person", said Will disgustedly, still keeping his pistol aimed at Jack. "But, now, since you've turned around...", a trace of a bitter sneer flickered across his face.

"The sound will scare her", said Jack in a quiet, calm, almost blank tone of voice, with a strange glimpse of seriousness in his eyes.

Will snorted.

And fired.


	33. Chapter 33

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Spoiler: Oh, come on. As if I could do such a thing...:)

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 33**

"Oi." Jack blinked. Truth to be told, he was slightly surprised. Not by the fact that Will had actually fired, but rather by the fact that he had missed. And more precisely that he had missed not deliberately, but only because Jack had tilted his head to the side. A little.

Elizabeth jumped out of the bed with a gasp. She quickly opened the door, and dashed into the hallway.

"Jack!", she exclaimed, running to him, not even glancing at Will who stared at her wide-eyed, once again transfixed by her appearance and behaviour.

"Everything is all right!", announced Jack reassuringly, looking disgustedly at the hole made in the wall by the bullet that missed his head for inches. "Now go back to sleep, luv", he quickly escorted bewildered Elizabeth to her cabin, before she managed to throw her arms around his neck, and before Will managed to say or do anything. Jack closed the door behind Elizabeth, and looked at Will irritably. "See? Ye scared her. Hope ye're bloody happy now", he said, surprising even himself with the amount of arrogant peevishness in his voice. _Fine speech, mate. And now he will just fire again._

But Will did not fire again. Instead, in no time he got to Jack, and slamming him against the wall, pressed a dagger against his throat.

"Quite indecisive as to the killing method, are we, aye?", muttered Jack, wrinkling his forehead disapprovingly, when the cold blade almost cut through his skin.

"I have few more ideas", said Will through his gritted teeth, glaring at Jack angrily.

"Let's hear them. Maybe I'd learn something", Jack narrowed his eyes in mock-interest, cautiously, surreptitiously reaching for his sword.

"Well, unfortunately you won't live long enough to use that knowledge", Will sneered impatiently, and was about to press the dagger into the skin, when Jack kicked him on the ankle, sending him to the floor. Will swiftly got to his feet, and snarled at the sight of a sword pointed at him. "Is this a joke?", he asked irritably, bending down to pick up his dagger that fell out of his hand.

"If a joke can finally attract yer _flawed_ attention", answered Jack with a sour smile, putting his sword back into its sheath.

Will, on the contrary, pulled out his sword, coming up to Jack. "Oh, I may assure you that you've got my _full_ attention from the moment I saw my wife walking out of your bedroom, and acting as if she's never seen me before", he recited quickly in a venomous tone of voice.

"Quite a number of observations in that sentence that seem to be yielding for explanation", pointed out Jack, narrowing his eyes in a half-smile.

"Indeed", hissed Will, swaying his sword at Jack, who tilted back his head, avoiding in the last moment the doubtful pleasure of having his head sliced in a half.

"I doubt whether an explanation can be given by a dead person", observed Jack with calm scepticism, knitting his eyebrows.

"And I doubt the joy of hearing your explanation could match the joy of seeing you dead", replied Will sternly, striking again.

"Ye will never find out if ye start with the option that is, in fact, irretrievable", squinted Jack, pulling out his sword to block the next upcoming strike.

"I'll make sure it will really be irretrievable this time", said Will decidedly with a frown.

"Speaking of retrieving things", started Jack, narrowing his eyes meaningfully, his voiced muffled by the the sound of clinging metal, "I don't think you killing me helps Elizabeth retrieve her memory..."

Will stopped in mid-action.

_There._

"What?", Will asked with a grimace.

Jack sighed ostentatiously. "She had an accident. And she's lost her memory. And she doesn't remember anything", he said in a low and serious tone of voice, looking at Will with slight annoyance.

Will wrinkled his forehead in confused astonishment."What do you mean by anything?", he asked half-worriedly, half-angrily, staring at Jack intensely.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I mean any bloody thing. Including you", he smirked briefly.

"She doesn't remember me?", asked Will incredulously, shooting Jack a questioning look.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Bloody shocking, aye?", he said, hoping that he did not sound _too_ sarcastic. But Will was to astonished to pay attention to a tone of voice.

"How?... When?...", Will subconsciously put down his sword, his eyes wandering around the hallway in complete bafflement. "What accident?", he asked sharply, glaring at Jack accusingly.

"Several days ago. She's been knocked down by a carriage", replied Jack grimly, feeling suddenly very gloomy, as the memories of that day came flowing back to him, bringing back that frightening feeling of danger... of a possibility of losing her... much like right now... the possibility of losing her...

_No._

"But-", Will shook his head, not really knowing what he wanted to ask next.

Jack cut him off, suddenly struck by an idea. "The doctor said it'll be better not to tell her anything, and have her just remember everything by herself... when the time comes." He glanced at Will searchingly to see how his explanation was doing. It was doing well. Will listened intently and calmly."So I- we didn't tell her anything. And then", he continued with increasing confidence, even adding a note of slight irritation, "you showed up all of a sudden, and we didn't tell you right away, 'cause if we did you'd just run to her scaring her out of her wits, which you managed to do anyway-"

"I didn't know", broke in Will almost guiltily.

Jack swallowed. Lies. More lies. And another not guilty person feeling guilty, while he... Well, he did feel kind of guilty too. Kind of. And what was he going to achieve anyway? Again: what was he doing?

"_I love you, Jack."_

"'Course ye didn't know, but it's not an excuse", bellowed Jack accusingly. "First ye scare her, then ye're trying to cut me throat on me own ship-"

This reminded Will of something.

"What was she doing in your cabin?", he asked sharply, gazing at Jack expectantly.

Jack knitted his eyebrows, and blinked, obviously displeased with his clever monologue being interrupted so rudely.

"Acupuncture", he blurted out, his mind lightening.

Will looked him over suspiciously. "What?", he asked impatiently with a frown.

"Needles", replied Jack stiffly.

Will wrinkled his forehead, and blinked distrustfully.

"Chinese medical technique", explained Jack matter-of factly. "Inserting and manipulating needles in special points on the body in order to cure all kinds of problems, that is illnesses, or ailments if you like. Very clever, really. The doctor prescribed it for headaches, caused by the head injury. I've learned it... in Singapore", added Jack modestly, looking at his interlocutor unblinkingly.

_Very clever, indeed..._

Will looked at him sceptically. Acupuncture. That was just... But then again, how could he suspect Elizabeth of... She would certainly never... Despite the fact that she has lost her memory... Or rather especially because she has lost her memory, for if she did not remember anything, and Jack was merely a stranger to her, how could she... She could not. How could he even ever come up with such an idea?

_...Or not?..._

"I see", acknowledged Will in a complying tone of voice, after staring absent-mindedly at his sword, and pondering Jack's words for a moment. At last he put his sword away.

_...or yes._

Jack blinked. _And now he only needs to apologize yet_, he snorted angrily to himself.

"I'm sorry", said Will unsmilingly.

Jack stared at him, feeling absolutely awful. _Hell for ye, mate. The lowest circle. _

"That's all right", muttered Jack, averting his eyes.

* * *

After Jack had walked her back to the cabin, Elizabeth remained by the door, bewildered, terrified, and utterly confused as to what was going on. The shot scared her. She did not dare to move, listening intently for any sounds coming from the hallway. She heard muffled voices, but could not make out the exact words. She thought about walking out again, but something held her back... Something she did not want to see... The way that man looked at her... She felt that she had done something terrible, and for some reason his gaze reminded her of that feeling... Maybe even his gaze was that feeling itself... For she knew who he was. He could only be one person. That was why he has known her name. That was why Jack has told her the truth. Because he has shown up... 

But why? Why has he shown up? Why has he shown up now? And where was he when she had laid unconscious in some strange town, alone, and with nobody looking for her? She sighed, staring down at the floor. With Jack looking after her...

She leaned her forehead against the door, and closed her eyes. He has known her... She has known him... He has never told her... Now she remembered that quizzical look which he had given her when she had asked him who he was... And yet, he had made up his mind so quickly as to pretend that he was a mere, accidental stranger... And she has never had any doubts... Except that recurring feeling of familiarity... As if she has known him... Because she did know him.

"_Before, there was no 'us', luv."_

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and frowned. How come? How was it possible that she had known him, and...

Her eyes travelled to the green ring on her finger. She bit her bottom lip painfully. That wedding ring... She was married. That wedding ring... E & W. W...

She pulled herself away from the door, and fell down onto the bed, crying.

* * *

"Where are ye going?", asked Jack cautiously with a grimace. 

"To Elizabeth", answered Will simply, reaching for the doorknob.

"Oi. Oi. Wait", Jack awkwardly waved his hands before Will's eyes. "I told ye she... doesn't remember. Ye just scare her again. I need to tell her first who ye are, and-"

"I can tell her who I am myself", cut in Will resolutely, trying to press the knob.

"I don't think this is one of yer best ideas. Not to mention that right now she is probably asleep", Jack raised his eyebrows defensively when Will shot him an impatient look.

"I appreciate your help", said Will, causing Jack's face to twitch, "but I can handle this myself."

"Well, last time ye tried, she began screaming for help if I remember correctly", observed Jack as matter-of-factly as possible, fighting the slightly ridiculous feeling of angry irritation at the very thought of Will's talking to, or even (now, that was truly ridiculous indeed) looking at _his Lizzie._

Will looked at him grimly. "So what am I supposed to do?", he inquired irritably, with a glimpse of sad desperation in his eyes.

_How nice of ye to ask._

"Well", Jack took a step backwards, causing Will to take a step backwards himself, and therefore conveniently step away from the door. "I think it'd be best if ye'd just fly back to yer dreary ship, and come back here tomorrow as it was originally planned", said Jack with a complacent smile.

Will wrinkled his forehead, and stared at him sternly, considering his words for a moment. Jack narrowed his eyes expectantly.

"And you will tell Elizabeth who I am, and that I will come tomorrow?", asked Will in a low tone of voice, after a pause.

"Of course", replied Jack calmly, hardly keeping from grinning.

Will nodded reluctantly. "All right", he said with a sigh, glancing at the door sadly.

Jack, not without an effort, restrained himself from giving Will a friendly tap on the shoulder. _Lower than the lowest, circle... For sure._

* * *

"Ye look bloody disappointed", snapped Jack to Gibbs angrily, when the _Flying Dutchman_ disappeared under the surface of the sea with both Will, and Bill Turner on board. 

"Disappointed?!", Gibbs blinked. "Mother's love, Jack. I'm just", he paused in search of a good word, "surprised on how it all's worked out", he risked a small smile.

"Nothing has worked out", said Jack solemnly, shooting him a grim look.

"Aye, but-", started Gibbs in an apparent attempt to point out the bright side of the situation, which, in his opinion was the fact that everybody was still alive.

"Take the helm", Jack cut him off with a grim expression on his face, and quickly walked away.

* * *

Jack opened the door almost fearfully, not sure what to expect. He thought that maybe for the time being it would be better if she really was asleep. It would give him the time... The time for what? There was nothing to be done, except for telling her the _exact _truth, telling her of the past, of meetings, of Will, of the Aztec gold curse, of Will, of the island and of burning rum, of Will, of Tortuga, of Will, of persuasion, of Will, of curiosity, of Will, of... the Kraken...? No. He could skip that part. She did not need to know that. It was unnecessary, and unimportant, and invalid, and- 

He walked into Elizabeth's cabin, and anxiously looked around.

The cabin was empty.


	34. Chapter 34

A/N: _**My amazing reviewers: thank you so much for your wonderful reviews! **_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 34**

"Can somebody explain to me what's goin' on?", asked Barbossa with a very poorly concealed impatience in his voice, walking out of his cabin, and glaring at the members of the crew running back and forth in the hallway. He went down the corridor, looking around irritably.

"The lass's missin', we're lookin' for 'er", somebody stopped running, answered him promptly, and ran on.

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "How could I not guess that", he snarled. "Look for 'er in silence, will ye!", he shouted annoyed. "There are still some captains who just want t'sleep", he muttered angrily. "Alone an' in bloody silence!", he added loudly and irritably, and was about to walk back to his cabin, when he noticed something on the floor. He narrowed his eyes. It was a book. And it looked rather old and dusty. Barbossa bent down, picked the book up, and blew the dust off the cover. He read the title, and raised his eyebrows. _Funny things are bein' scattered on the floor all over this ship lately_, he thought to himself with a half-sneer, and slowly walked back to his cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

His name. She should have probably asked Jack for W's name, instead of asking how had she and Jack met... But she had just asked about what has honestly interested her most at the moment... 

Elizabeth leaned over the rail, staring out at the dark ocean. The night was starless, and strangely cold. The wind tugged on the thin material of her green dress. So many dresses that he had given her that she has not yet had a chance to wear. A green dress... A green ring... She closed her eyes, letting the tears slowly stream down her face, while the wind seemed to attempt brushing these tears away, surely mistaking them for the drops of sea water, and apparently intending to return them to the sea.

But what, quite paradoxically, worried her most was the fact that W did not seem to be mean, or uncaring. And he looked sincerely worried. And he actually did seem to care. Which was not good. Not good at all. It would be much better if he just stormed into the cabin yelling at her, and not just went on repeating her name over and over again in such a gentle tone of voice. For some reason that tone of voice made her feel really awful. And obviously she had a reason (if not reasons) to feel awful.

Or not?...

What had happened in the past? Who was she in the past? Who were them... Who was guilty. Who was responsible. Who was hurt.

And what if it was all her fault? Whatever happened... What if she really was a terrib-

"_...wonderful..._ _noble... beautiful... courageous..." _

She opened her eyes, and grimaced, trying to keep her sobs as quiet as possible.

...and it was only proving her point. And he was only saying this, because he-

"Miss Elizabeth!", exclaimed Gibbs nigh cheerfully. "Everybody's out looking for ye!", he said approaching.

She quickly brushed the tears away from her face, and turned around. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I just-"

"No reason for crying", cut in Gibbs sympathetically with a small smile.

"Well, I think there are some", said Elizabeth resolutely in a shaky voice. "Do you", she started suddenly struck by an idea, "know me? I mean... did you know me?", she asked quietly.

Gibbs blinked uncomfortably. "Well...", he glanced at Elizabeth who looked at him expectantly. He hesitated for a moment. "Yes", he said at last with a sigh. "I think I'll go get Jack, tell him that I found you", he added hurriedly, wishing to avoid further questions.

"No", she said stopping Gibbs in his tracks. "Where is he?", she asked softly, after a pause.

* * *

Jack looked around the bow, holding a lantern near his face, squinting in the darkness. Nothing again. Where could she be? Where did she go? It was all his fault (what a discovery, indeed). He almost regretted telling her... Maybe if she had not... Then what? He sighed with resignation. It was all completely, utterly, desperately unsolvable. And what was going to happen tomorrow? What was his plan? _Come on, ye're good at that, aren't ye. Plans, ideas. Lies. More lies. More more lies. What are ye going to do next? Pretend that nothing has happened? Ye can't even bloody stand the idea of him looking at her, not to mention talking to her, not to mention-_

"_I love you, Jack."_

_Me. Me... Me? Maybe not me. Maybe that's the whole bloody problem, maybe it's just the feeling wrongly associated with me, while-_

"_...it's after you, not the ship..."_

He grimaced, almost tripping over a mooring line. Why all of sudden he should be remembering _that_. Why-

"Mr. Gibbs said you were looking for me", said Elizabeth in a quiet, somewhat distant tone of voice.

She did not know what to say. She did not know what to think. But she just wanted to see him. Perhaps she should be angry with him. Perhaps she was angry with him. But she still needed to be near him. Regardless of anything, regardless of everything. Regardless...

Jack spun around immediately, and stared at her for a moment in silence, feeling relieved that she was all right; feeling cold at the tone of her voice.

"Aye", he muttered at last, wrinkling his forehead. "I... didn't know where you were, ...Lizzie", he said under his breath, saying her name with some difficulty, as if it suddenly sounded awkward, as if all of a sudden he did not have a right to use it anymore.

He turned around, and put the lantern away, afraid of seeing her face too clearly at the moment. When he turned back to face her, she has already taken a few steps towards him, and now was standing right in front of him, looking him in the eyes with a sad expression on her face.

"Why didn't you tell me, Jack?", she asked in a whisper. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

He studied her face intensely, and she had a brief, cold impression that he was learning her face by heart, as if he was not going to see her ever again after this conversation. She looked at him, and the expression on his face made her heart sink. He looked so thoroughly sad, so devastated, that she could hardly even recall his usual roguish smiles, and impish smirks at the moment. They seemed almost unreal now. And she wanted so much to see one of those smiles again. She wanted him to smile. She wanted to see that glimpse of joy, of charming arrogance, of ardent love in his eyes. But the only glimpse in his eyes that she could see right now was the glimpse of grim resignation, and his eyes looked like the night sky would probably look like if all the stars fell down from it, leaving the world in the absolute, frightening, intolerable darkness.

"Because I wanted you for myself", he said at last in a low, self-accusing tone of voice. "All of you", he added firmly, wrinkling his forehead, and paused, as if waiting for something to happen... But nothing happened. "All of your thoughts, and all of your feelings", he whispered, looking at her pensively. "Every single one", he trailed off, and averted his eyes from her for a moment, and she had an impression that he had said something else, something more that he had wanted to say, as if the words just came flowing straight from his heart, to hers, even if he had not intended them to.

She stared at him, thinking about all those lies, not even able to imagine all of them yet, still not really understanding what was going on, still not knowing almost anything apart from the existence of some truth, of the truth that he has always known, and had not told her. The truth that he did not want to tell her, the truth that he told her at last not because he has decided to do so, but because the truth cornered him, leaving him no choice, but to reveal at least a part of it. A part of it, for she still did not know almost anything... She did not know... And she was not sure whether she wanted to know... If it was making him sad... If it was making his smiles go away... She would rather have him smile than telling her the truth... Oddly, it seemed to her that knowing the truth was less important that seeing him smile...

"Smile at me", she whispered nigh inaudibly, making him look at her. He blinked not sure whether he had heard correctly. "Smile at me, Jack", she repeated in a faltering whisper, wrapping her arms around his neck, and resting her forehead against his.

"Lizzie...", he nervously stroked her hair, astonished. Astonished even more when she did not pull away, so he pulled her closer, and held her as close as possible, closing her in a strong embrace.

_But she still doesn't know anything, she still doesn't really know anything_, some voice in the back of his head kept reminding him. And it was true. There was a difference between the mere, half-abstract realization that he was lying, and the full comprehension of _what exactly_ he was lying about, and _how much_ he was lying. And he knew that if she remembered everything she would have probably reacted very differently, and it was something that was still before her, before them, before him. It was something that he feared most.

But until then (until some mysterious _then _again), there was still a chance to save that dream of his.

"Jack", Elizabeth gently, but somewhat impatiently tugged on his shirt, shaking him out of his thoughts. "Smile at me."

"Never the one to give up, aren't ye, luv", he tried to smile, but the smile came out broken.

She smiled at him, a smile that supposed to be cheerful, but looked rather pale. "What are we going to do?", she asked in a serious tone of voice.

"Well, if tomorrow you're going to refer to us as 'us', luv, then you will have to decide on further actions alone, since I'll probably be chopped into considerably small square pieces, and fed to the sharks", he paused, when Elizabeth laughed. "And I'm not quite sure this is funny, darling", observed Jack putting on a mockingly hurt facial expression.

Elizabeth chuckled, and cupped his face in her hands. "I won't let anybody chop you in no pieces", she whispered, smiling.

"I'm afraid you won't have too much of a decision power in the matter, but I appreciate your disapproval of that despicable idea", replied Jack with his nigh usual smirk.

Elizabeth smiled, and rested her head on his shoulder. "I think I would like to know some things", she said thoughtfully after a moment of silence.

Jack grimaced involuntarily, and closed his eyes leaning his head against hers. "There are many things-", he started.

"Five", Elizabeth broke in, raising her hand, and spreading five fingers before Jack's face.

He tilted his head, slightly baffled. "Five?", he asked cautiously.

Elizabeth looked up at him with an impish smile. "I would like to know five things", she explained, snuggling her face into his neck.

"Oh", acknowledged Jack, tightening his embrace around her, not sure how he felt about that idea just yet.

"One: my parents", said Elizabeth with a smile.

Jack sighed, and it made Elizabeth's smile fade. She looked up at him expectantly.

"I'm afraid they don't... I mean they are... in a grander place right now", he whispered into her hair, hugging her closer.

She did not say anything, but he could feel her fingers clutching the fabric of his shirt more tightly.

"Long time ago?", she asked quietly.

"Your mother yes, I think, and your father... less than a year ago", he answered, awkwardly running his hand up and down her back. He did not really know how to relate such events, how to tell such things. He has never done that before, and it was especially difficult, because it concerned her, and he wished he could always tell her only happy tales with exhilarating endings, and not that kind of irretrievably sad stories.

"Did you know them?", she looked up at him, searching for his eyes in the imperfect darkness.

"I've met your father", said Jack hesitantly.

"Did he like you?", asked Elizabeth with a small smile.

"_Hang him!" _

"Well", Jack cleared his throat, "I'd like to think that he did warm up to me... at some point."

She smiled faintly, and put her head back on his shoulder. "Two: me", she whispered.

"You, luv?", inquired Jack interestedly.

"Yes, me", replied Elizabeth, playing with the trinkets in his hair.

"You're mine", said Jack in the most casual tone ever.

"Yes, but apart from this", said Elizabeth with a faint smile.

"Apart from this?", asked Jack incredulously, looking offended.

Elizabeth held back laughter, nestling her face into his neck. "Yes, apart from that", she repeated in a muffled voice.

"Apart from that...", echoed Jack thoughtfully, ostentatiously mulling over it for a longer while.

"Jack!", exclaimed at last Elizabeth with playful impatience.

"I am thinking,'Lizbeth", answered Jack in a serious tone of voice.

She shot him a mock-annoyed look, and sighed resignedly.

"I know!", announced Jack triumphantly, looking at her with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows expectantly, a trace of a smile flickering across her face.

"I think you can answer this question for yourself, Lizzie", he said with a very suspicious, roguish smile.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, but before she managed to make any further inquiries, he crashed his lips against hers, and pulled her into a passionate, demanding, fiery kiss.

"And... who are you, luv?", asked Jack, finally remembering about the annoying necessity to breath.

"I'm yours", muttered Elizabeth in a barely audible, faltering whisper, softly pressing her trembling lips against Jack's grinning ones.

* * *

Will sat at his desk in the _Flying Dutchman_ Captain's Quarters with his head in his hands, not even aware of the presence of his father who stood in the doorway for several minutes already, vacillating between walking in, and walking away. 

Bill Turner did not exactly know what had happened, but there was something in his son's behaviour that made him doubt whether Will knew _exactly _what was going on. And he did not know how he had done it, but somehow it seemed that Jack had managed to stir the truth _again_ in such a way as to make it less bitter, less sour, and less... true. And he was not happy with that, not only for the sake of his son, but also for the sake of Elizabeth, and Jack. But then again, he did not feel like he was the right person to reveal the truth either.

And maybe, after all, tomorrow... Bill shook his head, and sighed to himself. No. Situations like this were not solving themselves at a breakfast table. They were solving themselves in the rain. In the rain of tears... or blood.

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear you", said Will tiredly, shaking his father out of his thoughts, looking at him drowsily.

"Yes, I just... And... How do you... feel? What's happened?", asked Bill, slowly making his way to the table.

"Elizabeth had an accident", said Will grimly, staring pensively into the distance.

"Yes, I've heard that." Bill Turner slumped into a chair, glancing at Will concernedly. "Joshamee Gibbs told me that she's... lost her memory...?"

"Yes", answered Will hollowly.

"Did you-", started Bill, but Will cut him off.

"She didn't even recognize me", he whispered blankly.

"Well-"

"She had no idea who I was. Not a faintest idea. She looked at me... and it was as if she didn't see me...", Bill wanted to say something, but Will continued, "For a moment there, I felt as if I really wasn't there... Like I wasn't there at all. Or maybe she wasn't there", Will slowly shifted his eyes to his father.

Bill stared at him sadly. "It's not that she doesn't remember you. She doesn't remember anything", he said in a low tone of voice, not really knowing what to say, trying to think of something that would make Will feel better. Even if only for a short time.

"I will see her tomorrow, maybe then...", Will paused, and grimaced, a drowsy expression on his face suddenly changing into an alert one. He reached into his pocket, and pulled something out of it. The wedding ring. He examined it for a moment. "It's not mine", he said thoughtfully with a slight frown. "It's Elizabeth's."


	35. Chapter 35

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 35**

Jack pressed a pillow against his mouth, wondering whether it was possible to die due to the self-induced suffocation. He really thought that it was what he deserved at the moment – to die _irretrievably_. For once _he_ did say something that actually made sense, Jack thought to himself sarcastically, scoffing himself quickly for being sarcastic. It was rather inappropriate. Being sarcastic, he meant. Being sarcastic about... Oh, yes. His favorite _topic_ was back. And he really tried hard to make it disappear, vanish, fly away- Oi. That was rather sarcastic. Again.

And it was also truly stunning that he had the nerve to be sarcastic yet. In such circumstances. How was it even possible?

Oh.

The reason for his fine sarcastic mood being possible, just snuggled her face into his chest with a soft sigh. She was asleep, and she looked unforgivably lovely.

He threw the pillow across the cabin, and carefully, as not to wake her up, wrapped his arms around her. It was nigh unimaginable that she was still here. With him. After seeing-

Of course it was absolutely, perfectly, unarguably logical that she did not remember _him. _Since she did not remember him, then how could she possibly remember _him_? Yet, he was afraid that she might... _But she didn't so stop thinking about that, and start thinking about what to do next._

He stroked her hair, thinking back to all those moments in the past when their lives were crisscrossing only to go in different directions soon after. But now it was different. Now, she did not try to run away from her feelings. Ah. So he did hope that she had had some feelings for him before too, then?... He smirked to himself, delicately pulling some strands of her hair on her face, and then pushing them back behind her ear.

Oh, he was going to be dead. He was going to be _very_ dead. He was going to be _so _dead tomorrow, that he almost considered turning around, and sailing back to Tortuga, or any other place he could think of. And not because he was going to be literally dead (although it would undoubtedly be a fairly good motivation), but because he might lose her... Tomorrow he may begin losing her... And that would be very similar to dying. It would actually _be _dying... in its pure (purified?) form.

Elizabeth shifted in her sleep, and he could hear her breathing, feel her breath delicately brushing against his skin like the light wind on a summer evening.

...and there was a time when he had been perfectly happy with the wind, and summer evenings at the open ocean...

...and now he needed much more than that... much more than the summer wind... much more than the Caribbean evenings... much more than the entire ocean...

...now he needed her.

_So stop staring at her, and start thinking thinking t-h-i-n-k-i-n-g!_

* * *

In the morning, after learning about certain last night's _accidentally _seen encounters and _accidentally _overheard conversations from _accidentally _well-informed crew members, Barbossa entered the dining quarters in a very good mood, despite his nigh sleepless night, which he had spent mostly on reading a (very interesting, actually) piece of writing. 

He walked into the mess, and raised his eyebrows. "Are ye goin' to stay here for good? That might be amusin'", he said with a chuckle, noticing Will, and "Bootstrap" at the table.

"No", answered Will sternly.

"We've some matters to discuss", said Gibbs in a hurriedly explanatory tone of voice.

"Aye", agreed Barbossa, grinning. "That might be amusin' as well."

* * *

Jack woke up with a nagging feeling that he forgot about something. He pondered it for a moment, opening his eyes to the morning light. 

Morning light... Morning... Breakfast... Oh. Oh yes. _The Flying Dutchman_. Now he remembered. He had forgotten to mention the name of a certain captain to a certain king whom he was currently holding in his arms. The name, as well as the rest of the past had remained, in fact, unmentioned...

He looked at Elizabeth, and smiled. Then he looked at the window, and stopped smiling. The sun was up. The sun was _very _up. Bugger.

"Lizzie-luv, wake up", he whispered, stroking her hair, displeased with the fact that he had to wake her up. She looked so wonderfully peaceful sleeping.

She mumbled something, frowning slightly in her sleep.

"Darling, I am terribly sorry, but-"

"I want to sleep", muttered Elizabeth, burying her face in a pillow.

"Lizzie", said Jack in a pleading tone of voice.

"...e di...nt ev... et... to nu...er... th...", said Elizabeth into a pillow.

Jack leaned down towards her. "What?", he asked confusedly with an amused half-smile, brushing her hair away from her face.

Elizabeth looked up from the pillow. "We didn't even get to number three", she said with a small, drowsy smile. "I wanted to know five things", she reminded him, seeing his rather puzzled facial expression.

Jack closed his eyes, and grimaced. "That's right", he opened his eyes. "My fault. I'm sorry", he said in a surprisingly serious tone of voice, looking her deeply in the eyes, considering for a moment just staying like this, and looking into her eyes for the next few years. "But we have to hurry up now", he added almost apologetically, reluctantly snapping back into the vexing reality.

Elizabeth turned gloomy at an instant. "I don't want to go", she pouted. "I won't know what to say", she said, trying to pull the cover over her face.

Jack caught the cover, pulling it away from her. "I'm afraid it's unavoidable, Lizzie", he said in a low tone of voice.

"We'll see", frowned Elizabeth, tearing the cover out of Jack's hands, and hiding under it.

"This is childish", said Jack, narrowing his eyes, and hoping that it will irritate her enough to come out.

And it did, but not quite.

"Oh really?", she said, uncovering her face for a moment. "And how _mature _is pretending not to know me in order to... to... to seduce me!", she exclaimed in a fairly angry tone of voice, although her eyes were laughing.

"Seduce ye, luv?", Jack blinked ostentatiously. "Well, I think we'd better not go into discussing who, in fact, seduced whom", he wiggled his eyebrows meaningfully.

Elizabeth stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, and then sat upright in bed, grabbed a pillow, and hit him on the head with it.

"Ah", Jack got hold of the pillow, despite Elizabeth's desperate efforts to keep it. "Now, luv. There is a very severe punishment for captain abuse", he said in a serious tone of voice.

Elizabeth giggled. "Which is what?", she asked with challenging scepticism.

"Which is...", he paused, pulled her swiftly towards him, and threw her on the other side of the bed, hovering over her, "being abused by the abused captain", he whispered, grinning.

She laughed, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Just kiss me already", she said capriciously.

Jack smirked, and leaned down obediently, but then pulled away quickly, before his lips met hers. "No. We have to go", he said in a deeply pained tone of voice.

Elizabeth grimaced, and wrinkled her forehead. He looked at her hesitantly, and frowned. They stared at each other almost sternly for a moment.

At last, Jack rolled his eyes. "I think I've a fancy room in hell reserved already", he muttered, leaning down, and kissing her madly.

* * *

Gibbs stared at the door expectantly, and unblinkingly, trying to imagine what on earth could make Jack late for _this_ particular breakfast. 

"I do regret that that monkey has run away", said Barbossa, grabbing a loaf of bread. "It could steer the ship if the parrot got ever tired of it", he said indifferently.

"Well, last time I saw the helm, Cotton was there", observed Gibbs rather stiffly, glancing around, and then shifting his eyes back to the door.

"That's what I meant", replied Barbossa with a wide half-sneer, half-smile.

Will sat in his chair, not really listening to anything that was being said, staring pensively into the distance, clutching something tightly in his hand. The wedding ring. Their wedding ring... Her wedding ring. Why did she even ever take it off? Of course she did not remember him, but having the ring would at least inform her that she was married. Why would she take it off?

"So", started Barbossa after a moment of silence, "the same destination we all are headin' towards, as it turned out", he said, glancing at Will, and Bill Turner.

Bill looked at him blankly. "Is it?", he asked disinterestedly.

Barbossa snorted slightly. "Ne'er knew the water from that Fountain can do such things", he said glancing at Will, who did not seem to be listening. "Ye don't mind I borrowed yer book for late night reading, do ye?", he asked with a mockingly polite smile.

"Why would we", answered Bill Turner, looking at him steadily.

"I thought so", replied Barbossa. "There should be no secrets among friends, should there?", he said with a grin, narrowing his eyes.

* * *

"Ye've no idea how late it is, luv", gasped Jack, breaking the kiss. 

Elizabeth smiled, and pulled him back down. He nestled his face into her neck, and sighed, closing his eyes for a moment, as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, and slowly ran her hand up and down his back, her smile fading gradually as she felt all the scars under her palm. The scars which were always making her sad when she thought of the pain that must have been imprinted in them.

"Jack", she whispered almost inaudibly, and smiled faintly at muffled "aye, luv" that came as an answer. "Why there was no 'us'?", she asked softly.

Jack opened his eyes, and raised his head, propping it on an elbow. "'Cause I've never told you _unambiguously _that I wanted us to be us, and you... and you, I think, didn't quite want us to be us, Lizzie, you wanted a different us, and that did not include me", he said looking at her thoughtfully.

Elizabeth looked at him grimly, wrinkling her forehead. "You mean I told you to go to hell, or something?", she asked incredulously, brushing his lips with her fingertips.

He smirked at that quizzically. "Aye, pretty much", answered Jack, granting each of her fingertips with a light kiss.

She cupped his face in her hands, and kissed him deeply on the mouth.

"Let's go, luv", he said with a trace of a sad smile flickering across his face, helping Elizabeth to slip off the bed.

* * *

"Ye lift the curse, but ye lose immortality", said Barbossa, looking at Will intensely. "Ye sure it's a good trade, Mr.- I'm sorry, he chuckled, "Captain Turner?", he narrowed his eyes in a half-smile. 

Bill Turner observed him intently. There was something on Barbossa's mind, no doubt about it. And whatever it was, he did not like it.

"I don't need immortality. I just want my mortality back. I've never asked for nothing more than that", answered Will somewhat impatiently.

Barbossa opened his mouth to speak, but then the door cracked open, and to Gibbs' infinite relief, Jack came into the mess, yet shouting orders to some sailors who _apparently_ were in the hallway. Jack slammed the door shut behind him with a grimace.

"What is it with those unworthy scallywags", said Jack, frowning. "Years at sea, and don't even know their own duties, and then one has to wake up before the sunrise to check on everything and everybody along the entire keel", muttered Jack irritably.

Barbossa raised his eyebrows, and turned around, taking an ostentatious look out of the window. "I could swear the sun rose more than five hours ago", he said, turning back to the table.

Jack ignored him, slumping into a chair.

"Well, let's eat!", exclaimed Gibbs cheerfully.

"Where is Elizabeth?", Will's voice came clear through the noise of the dishes being passed around.

Jack looked at him wide-eyed, and then tilted his head forward, looking around the table interestedly. "Not here", he stated decidedly.

"I happened to notice that", replied Will stiffly. "Well?"

"Well what?", Jack shot him a baffled look.

"Well where is she?", inquired Will unsmilingly.

"How can I know?", snapped Jack impatiently. "Asleep, I imagine. Everybody's is sleepin', or eatin', or havin' a fine time otherwise while the captain alone has to take care of everythin', an' see to everythin' gettin' no chance of gettin' even one bloody hour of rest."

Barbossa shook his head, and sighed, but said nothing.

Will stared at Jack sternly, and after a moment of silence, quickly rose to his feet, and stormed off the mess. Jack blinked when the door slammed shut behind him.

"Wish people would stop doing that. One day this door will just brake", said Jack disgustedly, looking absently around the table, thinking with strange bitter anxiety about the conversation that was about to take place.

* * *

Elizabeth was nervously pacing around her cabin, twisting her fingers, and, half-seriously considering jumping overboard. She would really rather jump overboard than... She closed her eyes, and shook her head. What was she supposed to say? She felt a twinge of guilt thinking about... A twinge of guilt. It was not that she felt guilty about being in love... She smiled to herself involuntarily, but then grew solemn again, trying to focus. There was just something uncomfortable in the idea of cheating... Cheating on someone... Was she cheating on someone...? She stopped in her tracks. Of course she was!... She snapped to herself angrily. And she had known that. She had known that all along, even before she had stepped aboard the _Black Pearl. _She had that ring. She had that wedding ring, and she had chosen to ignore it... has chosen to ignore it... And she did not even care... 

Elizabeth buried her head in her hands. As hard as she tried, she could not make herself regret anything that has happened. Neither did she want to regret anything. Maybe she did not know her past, but she knew her present. And her present was Jack. Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack everywhere she looked, every time she closed, or opened her eyes she saw him... Nothing could change that, if she could help it. Nothing she knew... Although she did not know much... Was there anything about the past that could possibly-

She looked up, at the sound of knocking.

"Elizabeth?" She knew that voice, now. That voice... What had he done? Had he done anything? Had he left her? Had she left him?

Old, almost forgotten questions began vexing her again. She should have asked Jack, but somehow, she did not want to ask him. One reason being that she did not want to hurt him... The other... that she did not know whether he would tell her... the truth? Maybe. And even suspecting that he would not tell her the truth did not make her angry with him. How could she be angry with him. She was so utterly happy in the last few days. And... she loved him. She loved him so indescribably unreasonably strongly... She shook herself out of her thoughts, upset with herself for all these lamentably quasi-poetic musings.

"I'm coming!", she exclaimed, feeling ridiculous all of a sudden, behaving as if it was an ordinary, meaningless visit. She stepped to the door, pressed the knob, and then realized in dismay that she actually did not even know... W's name... But it was too late now.

She sighed, and opened the door, putting on her face the nicest smile she could muster.


	36. Chapter 36

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

...I will probably not be able to update sooner than Thursday... Circumstances having nothing whatsoever to do with me, but I am sorry, nonetheless:)

Spoiler: Willabeth. (Kidding, kidding, don't shoot ;)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 36**

Elizabeth opened the door with a random and ridiculous feeling of being a host of a tea party. She had no idea whether she has ever actually thrown a tea party, but if she has, she was sure that it must have felt like this. She was nervous, and anxious, and strangely exhausted. She tried very hard to keep a smile on her face, and appear friendly. Friendly. Was she supposed to be friendly? If he has done something wrong, maybe she should be less than friendly to him... Then again, if he has done nothing wrong, she probably should be more than friendly... Just friendly then. That should be safe and fair.

"Good morning, Elizabeth", said Will at loss for a better greeting, slightly surprised by his own tone of voice which seemed strangely flat.

He missed her so much. Every day, every night, doing what he was supposed to do, fulfilling all his duties, completing all his chores, the only thing, the only person that was on his mind incessantly, inexorably, permanently for all this time was her. His beautiful wife. And now she was standing right in front of him, as beautiful as ever, her eyes glittering, her lips smiling, her hair falling softly over her shoulders, and what he wanted to do, the only thing he wanted to do was pulling her towards him, embracing her, kissing her, and telling her that he loved her, that every day he has been missing her more and more, that the only comfort he could find sailing through the murky waters on the other side of the world was in thinking of her, dreaming of her, imagining their life together when this burden of his will be at last taken away from him.

And yet, with all these thoughts circulating in his mind, he was unable to move, transfixed by something in her eyes, something that held him back, some distance that he could suddenly sense between them. He told himself that it was because she did not remember him. It must have been just because she did not remember him...

"Good morning", said Elizabeth with a small smile, looking at him unblinkingly, and trying to come up with a name. Of course coming up with a random name may not be such a good idea after all. He might have felt somewhat offended... Oh, Jack could have really at least told her the name. It was rather embarrassing not to know the name of your own hus-

It took her by surprise, that sudden realization, which she had continued to disregard repeatedly, day after day, ...night after night... And just to think that several days ago in Tortuga, she thought it improper to have Jack watch over her at night... And now she was speaking with her... husband, without even feeling guilty for cheating on him... Impeccable moral standards, indeed.

"How are you?", asked Will with a faint smile flickering across his lips.

Elizabeth was about to exclaim: "Wonderful!", or something equally enthusiastic, but then she thought better of it, and smiling nicely said in a calm tone of voice:

"Quite well, thank you. And you?", she inquired almost mechanically.

There was something in her behaviour that vexed him, something in her voice that worried him, something in her that stunned him, but all these elements were impossible to place just yet. Or maybe he just refused to place them? What he found particularly striking in her behaviour was a strange mixture of childish cheerfulness, and mature self-confidence, and neither could he understand the latter (considering the fact that she has lost her memory, and must have been feeling rather lost and confused in the world right now), nor the former, especially that he has never actually seen her _that _cheerful before, and he could not really imagine the reasons for her being so cheerful in given circumstances.

Then he thought that perhaps it was the lack of sad memories, and her unawareness of all the grievous past events that made it possible for her to be so joyful.

Joyful... But it still rather baffled him, despite his self-created explanations, and it did not cross his mind that perhaps what seemed to him to be joyfulness was, in fact, more like nervousness.

He looked at her, and all of a sudden he forgot about everything, his thoughts have vanished, the world has disappeared, and instead of giving a polite answer to her question, and continue the plain conversation, he took a few steps towards her, and whispered ardently:

"I missed you so much."

And he did not realize his mistake immediately. First, he just saw the her smile fade to a facial expression reflecting, if anything, more like only panic, and fear. And then when he attempted to take her into his arms, he paled noticeably, and took a few steps backwards, wide-eyed, and... was it really it?... Yes... Wide-eyed, and visibly upset.

"Elizabeth", he said in a cracking voice, at the sound of which she grimaced, and he could not tell whether it was because it touched her, or rather annoyed her.

And annoyed her it did. And it scared her too. And it depressed her. Clearly, he behaved as if nothing bad has ever happened between them. As if none of them has done anything wrong. As if, in some strange way, they were still _together_, as if it was perfectly natural for him to touch her, as if he had some rights to her...

She moved rapidly backwards, and his outstretched hand aimed at initiating an embrace, met with the cold emptiness of transparent air.

"Elizabeth..."

Again. He said her name again in that strange, heartbreaking tone of voice. Heartbreaking... She grimaced. And that sound again. She panicked at the thought of the beating sound enveloping her once again right now, when there was no Jack in sight to make it go away.

"Let's go take a walk", she ordered unexpectedly, in a resolute voice.

Will looked at her sadly, and nodded, while she hurriedly stormed off the cabin, leaving him no chance for catching her hand, and holding it while walking up the stairs, as he had wished and half-planned.

* * *

Jack could not stand sitting at the table, just eating and drinking, while his mind was quite ridiculously ablaze, producing some horrid, abstract images that made him feel sick. He looked around the table with disgust. He looked at a bottle of rum, and wrinkled his forehead, upon a sad realization that for the first time in his life, he had no desire to reach for it. He stared blankly at the rum for some time, oblivious to conversations around him (if there were any, he could not tell, paying no attention to his surroundings). Then, mumbling something that nobody could probably understand, stormed off the mess, and headed up the stairs to take the helm. 

He released Cotton, who actually looked very surprised to be released (which annoyed Jack for some reason, but maybe only because anything could annoy him at the moment), and stood at the helm, having the impression that he has not been there for a long time.

Partly it was true, partly it was not true... He tried to think about the course, about the heading, about the weather... But his mind very quickly drifted off the safe topic of sailing, and focused on less indifferent matters...

Indifferent matters?! Was sailing an indifferent matter? He clutched the spokes almost absent-mindedly, feeling nothing, nothing particularly profound... Since when? Since when he did not feel that twinge of excitement, that joyous glow in his chest while steering the ship, while standing at the helm of the _Black Pearl_. He had traded his soul for this ship. And now, it just felt so distant, half-unimportant, strangely blank... It was still enjoyable, in some strangely direct way... but the spiritual dimension was nigh gone, or rather incomplete... Something was missing. Something that could enable him to breath in the magic of the moment, the breeze of the sea, the scent of the ship under the full sails, rolling on the dark blue, greenish waves.

Now there was a proviso. A requirement, that had to be met not only in order to enjoy anything, but even in order to simply retain the plain peace of mind.

Jack frowned, trying to concentrate on the horizon, trying to look into the soothing distance where were hidden all the future destinations, all unknown perils, all hopes for the greatest treasures...

His eyes shifted from the ocean, to the deck, and there it was, the requirement... Didn't she look beautiful in the sunlight? Didn't she look beautiful always... He followed her with his gaze, waiting for her to turn around, thinking-

The sight of Will returned him to the sheer reality. He almost forgot. _The _conversation. But somehow he rather liked that they got out of the cabin, and went on deck. Now he could at least see them. Now he could see her, and it was easier to endure that inescapable encounter.

He looked at Elizabeth who stood by the railing, looking out at the ocean. Will stood next to her, watching her intently, with a concern, alert, grim expression on his face.

For a moment there, Jack seriously considered walking up to him, and telling him to stay away from _his Lizzie. _There was something irritating in the image of Will looking at Elizabeth, as if he was trying to drag her away from whichever reality she was in at present, with only that look in his eyes, that look of naive certainty (or was it rather uncertainty?...) that she wanted to be dragged away... that he knew what she wanted... that she wanted what he wanted...

"_I want you, Jack."_

Perhaps his heart was just scarred by the past, and that was why he was scared of the future. The future. His future was embodied in her. The more he looked at her, from that irritating distance, the more he was beginning to realize that he could not live without her anymore, that he needed her to go on, to be able to breath, to be able to look at the sea with joy. He needed her hands wrapped around his neck, he needed her eyes gazing into his, he needed her lips pressed against his every morning, every night, to even start thinking about anything else.

Living required being loved by her. Otherwise-

He stiffened, watching her turn towards Will, smiling.

* * *

Will looked at Elizabeth confusedly, when she (at last) turned to face him, smiling, although he did not really know why. What could possibly be funny about the fact that when she had spotted him in the water when they first met, he was half-drowned?... 

But Elizabeth was not smiling, because she found it amusing to hear that Will was found half-dead in the middle of the ocean. She smiled (quite involuntarily) at the thought that it was rather interesting that she, in a way, had rescued him from drowning, and later on she was rescued from drowning... by Jack.

Jack... She tried to concentrate, and focus on... whatever his name was. (She really felt uncomfortable not even knowing his name.) She looked at him, and suddenly felt sincerely sorry for her carefree attitude. Truth to be told, she did not feel as cheerful as she appeared to be, but somehow she found it easier to behave in this way, because it sheltered her (or at least she believed so) from the seriousness which could easily overtake the conversation. And she did not want the conversation to turn serious, and lead to discussing some serious matters, although she did not know where she wanted to take this conversation either...

W (maybe she should at least just come up with a name for her personal use only?) seemed to be a very kind, calm, and nice person. Nevertheless, unfortunately, she felt that there was definitely something wrong with the fact that her impressions of him were limited to four-letter adjectives... If they were married...

"Elizabeth?", his voice shook her out of her musings, and she realized that she was not listening to what he must have been saying for at least several past minutes.

"I've been wondering...", she started just for the sake of saying something, "was our... marriage... arranged?", she blurted out, and regretted almost immediately at the sight of W's face turning pale.

"Arranged?", he repeated disbelievingly, clearly shocked.

"I-I'm sorry, I just... Because you said... that we've known each other since childhood... And I just thought that... I'm sorry", she decided to quit her vague explanation, because it seemed to only worsen the situation, and making W look even more sad that he had looked before.

Will stared at her unblinkingly, not really knowing what to say. Did she just suggest what he thought she suggested?

"What did he exactly tell you, Elizabeth?", asked Will cautiously, slightly wrinkling his forehead, looking at Elizabeth questioningly.

Elizabeth blinked, thinking about his question. Did he mean Jack?

"Do you mean Jack?", she decided to ask him straight-forwardly.

"Yes, I mean Jack", answered Will with some difficulty, struck by the way in which Elizabeth said Jack's name. He remembered her usually saying that name with a light frown, a constant trace of impatience or annoyance in her voice. And now, she said it so softly, that it almost, for a change, annoyed him.

"Not much, really", she muttered with a faint, half-nervous smile. _Not even your name, actually._

"He didn't tell you why we were... we are... we will be for some time yet separated?", asked Will in a low tone of voice, suddenly changing the topic.

Elizabeth looked at him, baffled.

Will snorted slightly. "Did he tell you anything at all? Anything at all about us?"

Us. Elizabeth blinked, an image flashing across her mind. Jack's face, his dark eyes glimmering in the darkened space, staring at her with hypnotizing intensity, when his lips slowly descended upon hers, and the world existed no longer...

"Elizabeth."

She blinked again, and looked at Will as if he has just appeared out of nowhere. Was he repeating her name all the time only to make her feel more guilty that she did not know, that is, remember his?

He stepped closer to her, looking at her concernedly. Maybe he was tiring her, maybe that head injury had some impact on her ability to concentrate, and a long conversation was just making her feel strenuous?

"I'm all right!", exclaimed Elizabeth in a slightly panicky tone of voice, once again moving away from him, when he only tried to barely touch her hand.

It hurt him that in some strange way she was scared of him, but he tried to explain to himself that right now he was merely a stranger to her, and all her trust was hidden somewhere in her mind along with her memory. And he could not expect her to know anything of the past... And actually, he could not expect Jack to tell her much about the past, for that matter. When was he supposed to do that? One evening could not be enough.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth", said Will quietly, looking at Elizabeth sadly, struggling to smile. "I just don't know what to say... I was... only thinking about you for all this time", he looked at her with a glimpse of some amazingly strong emotion in his eyes. She stared at him, strangely terrified, not sure she wanted to hear what he had wanted to say. "And you don't know... don't remember why", he paused, and once again reached for her hand, and this time, either because he seemed so desperate, or because she was listening to him so intently, that she did not notice the upcoming gesture, she actually let him got hold of her hand. "And you may have wondered why I wasn't there when you needed me", Will's voice sounded more firmly now. He eagerly locked her hand in his, before she made an attempt to draw her hand away. "I should've been there when that accident had happened... I should've been with you, but I... couldn't", he trailed off, exhausted.

"Why?", she asked in a whisper, overwhelmed but the solemnity, and sadness in his voice, only subconsciously noticing that he was holding her hand in his.

He looked at her, and took one more step towards her. "I'm bound to that ship for ten years", he said with a grimace, glancing at the _Flying Dutchman_. Elizabeth followed his gaze."Ten years I can't step on land. Neither can I take you with me... But after those ten years will be over we'll be together", he said, smiling at last, if only faintly.

She stared at him in bewilderment, not seeming to understand a single word he had said.

"You mean", she started, withdrawing her hand from his, her eyes wandering around the deck absently in an effort to comprehend his words, "you didn't leave me, or I you, you mean it was something... external, that-"

"Leave you?", Will broke in incredulously. "Elizabeth. How could I leave you?", he almost exclaimed, cupping her face in his hands, her eyes widening in strangely displeased astonishment. "I love you", he whispered tenderly, looking her deeply in the eyes, smiling at her weakly.

She looked at him unblinkingly, and he suddenly noticed how pale she was right now. She slowly raised her hand, and for a moment he thought that she was going to touch his face, or his hand, but instead, the only thing that she did, was brushing his hands away from her face.

"You love me too", he whispered resolutely, staring at her expectantly, feeling a twinge of cold pain, when she silently, awkwardly shook her head, grimacing.

He wanted to take her hand in his once again, he looked at her hand, and- He wrinkled his forehead. He knew that ring. He saw it before. It was-

So that was what it was all about, then. Suddenly million thoughts began running across his mind. The doctor had said that she was not supposed to be told of the past... He snorted to himself bitterly. And it was apparently just another famous lie of infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. And he probably had no intention of telling him that Elizabeth was aboard the _Black Pearl_. Probably? _Certainly_. Somehow, he must have found out about Elizabeth's accident, and he had decided to take advantage of the situation... It was so obvious. It was his plan unfortunately interrupted by Will's appearance... No doubt... He had taken her wedding ring... Maybe she even did not know...

"Let's go", said Will all of a sudden, grabbing Elizabeth, who was standing silently completely lost in thought at the moment, by the hand.

"Where?", she almost shouted, trying to brake free, but his grasp was surprisingly strong.

"On the _Flying Dutchman_. I show you... around the ship", he said as calmly as possible, his mind on fire, his heart racing. He just wanted to take her away from here, away from this ship, away from _him_ as fast as possible.


	37. Chapter 37

A/N: _**My amazing reviewers: thank you very much for your reviews!** _

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 37**

"But-", Elizabeth tried to protest, not really liking the idea of leaving the _Black Pearl_, and going on some ship, with somebody she barely knew... Well, technically-

"Is there... a problem?"

Elizabeth smiled involuntarily at the sight of Jack, who suddenly appeared. Using the distraction caused by his appearance, she swiftly slipped her hand out of Will's grasp. Will glanced at her, and the sadness mixed with abstract disappointment in his eyes, made her smile fade.

"No", answered Will with restrained irritation. "I just want to show Elizabeth the _Flying Dutchman_."

Jack shot a look at the _Dutchman_, and looked back at Will. "The view is quite clear already", said Jack with a half-smile, looking at Will intently.

"If you don't mind we'd like to be alone", said Will coldly, turning away from him, wishing to avoid an argument at the moment, and just take Elizabeth away from here, just take her away-

"I actually do mind", cut in Jack in a low, but resolute tone of voice.

Elizabeth smiled at him faintly. Will turned around, and glared at Jack. "What is that supposed to mean?", he asked sharply.

"It means that the breakfast is waiting", answered Jack simply, with an amused smile, but his eyes remained solemn. "Are you hungry, luv?", he darted his eyes to Elizabeth.

"Yes", she nodded enthusiastically, but again fell silent under Will's gaze.

"So go ahead, luv, go to the mess", said Jack in a low tone of voice, and there was something in his voice that prevented Elizabeth from asking whether he will go with her.

She glanced at Will who was staring at her intensely and concernedly, and brusquely went away, locking her eyes with Jack's for a moment, wordlessly trying to tell him that everything was all right...

...although she was not sure whether everything was all right. Something was wrong, only she did not know what it was. For the first time it occurred to her that the situation was perhaps more serious and convoluted than she considered it to be... Bound to a ship... What did he mean by that? Why did he mean when he said... What was it all about? She felt dizzy only from thinking about it... She slowly walked down the stairs, feeling more and more confused with every next step she has taken. Bound to a ship... Bound... Ship... Part of the... ship...

"_Part of __the ship, part of the crew. Part of the ship, part of the crew..."_

Elizabeth stopped in the middle of the stairs.

* * *

"And what do ye think ye're doing?", Jack looked at Will questioningly, not really succeeding in his effort to sound indifferent. 

Will tore his eyes from Elizabeth who has just disappeared below deck, and turned to Jack with a angrily grim expression on his face.

"Me?", Will smiled sourly. "Accidentally, I wished to ask _you _this same question", he said coolly.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Either ye haven't got yer meaning across, or I haven't got it, the latter decidedly more unlikely than the former", he smirked, but the smirk was nigh artificial.

"How is it, that even though you lie all the time, people still believe you, that is until it dawns on them that you're just a vicious liar, who doesn't hesitate to take advantage of an ill person", replied Will through his gritted teeth, staring at Jack steadily.

"Didn't know ye're ill. Ye look quite good, actually", observed Jack with a reassuring smile.

Will stepped closer to him, and hissed: "What were you trying to do? Amaze her with adventure on high seas? Thinking that she will never remember who she was, and then you could just-"

"Perhaps ye should think twice before ye say something that ye may twice as much regret saying", broke in Jack, sense of guilt evaporating miraculously in the heat of jealousy-stained anger.

"I'm taking Elizabeth on the _Dutchman_. I can stay on the surface long enough to take her to England. I'm sure we will find more trustworthy people to take care of her there, than here", said Will decidedly, trying to walk past Jack.

"You're not taking her anywhere." Jack's firm, low voice stopped Will in his tracks. He turned around.

"I think you're forgetting something. She is _my wife_", said Will glaring at Jack.

"Doesn't mean you can make her choices for her, does it?", retorted Jack in a serious, steady tone of voice.

"We make the same choices", replied Will resolutely.

A trace of a smile flickered across Jack's face. "She won't go with you, so unless you're planning on kidnapping her, which I don't recommend you trying, then I can't really see how you're going to put your self-centered words into action", he said, a faint smile still hovering somewhere behind his eyes.

"And what makes you think she won't go with me?", asked Will challengingly, his eyes unusually dark.

Jack studied him for a moment in silence, as if considering possible answers to that question, tempted to say something else, but eventually saying only matter-of-factly:

"She didn't look as if she was very fond of the idea."

* * *

"_Part of the ship, part of the crew..."_

Elizabeth stood in the middle of the stairs resting her head in her hands, and grimacing. She could not stop hearing that one sentence. It was almost as painful as the beating sound. The beating sound... Their was some connection...

"Are ye alright, lass?", a scratchy voice shook her out of her strange thoughts. She looked up, and met with Barbossa's dark, curious gaze.

"I'm fine", she whispered, glancing at him briefly, and attempting to continue walking.

"Good thing that cursed ship ain't bringin' the Kraken with 'er anymore", said Barbossa in a low tone of voice, as if he was talking to himself, and walked past Elizabeth up the stairs.

_The kraken._ She cringed at the word. She cringed, and felt something terrible pulsating in her head, in her mind, something she could not place, but it felt bitter, and ugly enough to make her heart beat faster, and her thoughts spin around in her head, causing her to suddenly feel sick, and weak.

"_It's not a reef!"_

"What's the kraken?", she gasped more than asked, without even turning around, vaguely expecting that Barbossa was still somewhere on the stairs to hear, and possibly answer her question.

Barbossa sneered slightly, a sneer that Elizabeth could not see, and then turned around, and looked at her motionless figure, nervously clutching the railing.

"Oh, ye don't remember that either?", he asked with fake concern, theatrically raising his eyebrows. "I'm not sure I should be tellin' ye that, then", he said, watching her reaction intently, and slowly turning around, before she turned around to at last face him.

"Does it have anything to do with me?", she inquired hesitantly, not really knowing why she was even talking to him, to that traitor, who mutinied Jack. But somehow she could not stop asking him questions.

Barbossa gave her a strange half-smile. "Well, I don't think ye'd really like t'hear the answer to that question", he said grimly.

* * *

"Fond of the idea", repeated Will sarcastically, looking at Jack steadily. "But I assume she was fond of your ring, so you took this one away from her, and stuck that worthless flashy stone on her finger instead?", he asked, pulling the wedding ring out of his pocket, and showing it to Jack. 

"At least hers is still here, while yours is at the bottom of the ocean, aye?", smirked Jack, after a moment of consideration.

Will blinked, slightly caught off guard by the remark. "I dropped it accidentally, and it has nothing to do-", he started, but Jack cut him off.

"She needs quiescence", said Jack, his tone suddenly almost annoyed, if not already angry. "And not you, indiscriminately handing her over all the memories, sorrows, regrets, and tragedies ye can think of", added Jack accusingly.

"I was only telling the truth", observed Will with stiff confidence.

"Ah", said Jack quietly, wrinkling his forehead. "So what is more important for ye, then? She, or the truth? Telling her everything that vexes ye, bothers ye, hurt ye, or keep it to yerself, leave it out, let her know only the bright side?"

"That's just lying", replied Will sternly.

"And yer so-called truth-telling is just selfish", said Jack firmly, although a part of him shuddered.

"Lying is selfish", answered Will disgustedly. "You didn't lie to protect her. Who are you trying to fool, Jack?", he narrowed his eyes interestedly, and paused for a moment. "You lied to take advantage of her. It's what you do. You lie to get what you want. You think that's selfless?", he asked with a snarl.

"I'm sure it can't match the amount of selflessness in the act of leaving somebody to grieve in seclusion for ten years", Jack blurted out grimly.

Will stared at him in silence, averting his eyes for a moment, but quickly regaining his composure. "It was a conscious decision", he said with conviction, looking at Jack gloomily.

"On whose behalf?", asked Jack with a smirk that again did not reach his eyes.

"My and _my wife__'s_", answered Will with growing irritation.

"Words alone provide neither justification nor forgiveness", said Jack with a strange half-smile.

* * *

"I do want to know if it concerns me", said Elizabeth, taking a few steps up the stairs, and standing face to face with Barbossa. 

"It's an awful lot of stories that are yet t'be told, and I ain't a storyteller, Miss Swann, or rather", he paused ostentatiously. "Mrs. Turner", he narrowed his eyes in a smile.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, the unknown, yet familiarly sounding words crashing against her like angry waves against a ship in a storm.

"_...at least once more Miss Swann. As always." _

"_...at least the boy has a sense of propriety."_

"I want to know...", she whispered, not really knowing anymore what she meant by her question, just wanting to hear the answer, an answer, some kind of answer. Just wanted to hear anything, anything else but that sound that was once again overtaking her senses.

Barbossa put a thoughtful expression on his face, and slowly walked up the stairs, and towards the bow of the ship. Elizabeth watched him go, transfixed by her own thoughts at the moment, considering briefly just running to the mess, as Jack had told her to, and forgetting about everything, everything that there was to know... But a part of her, that curious part of her which strangely terrified her at times, urged her to follow that man, and hear whatever answers he could offer.

"Wait!", Elizabeth caught up with Barbossa, blocking his way. He gave her a pretendedly surprised look. "Tell me-"

"Ye'll most likely regret it", warned Barbossa in a nigh blank tone of voice.

"What is the kraken?", she asked, the word rolling down her tongue with a strange, bitter taste.

Barbossa turned from her, hiding a smile, and walked to the rail, leaning heavily against it, and looking out at the ocean. "I was actually quite astonished when Jack brought ye aboard", he started in a seemingly disinterested tone of voice.

Elizabeth approached him quickly, and stood next to him, looking at him intently, trying to hear the words that struggled to reach her through the veil of the beating sound that pulsated in her head. It hurt, but she did not care. Somehow she felt that there was something more important than that sound to hear and think of right now.

"Ye know", continued Barbossa, looking pensively into the distance. "It's not a common practice t'sail around with people who killed ye, although I'm probably not the best person t'be sayin' this", he said with a chuckle.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Elizabeth's confused facial expression.

"I often wondered", continued Barbossa, "why did he take ye aboard", he paused, feeling Elizabeth eyes watching him intensely. "Out of compassion?", he raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "In search of revenge?", he narrowed his eyes. "To satisfy lust?", he looked at her with a trace of a sneer flickering across his face.

She stared at him with mixture of confusion, irritation, fear, and disgust. The mixture of exactly everything that he had hoped to evoke.

Elizabeth wanted to say something, but could not decide what it was that she wanted to say... If there was anything she wanted to say... She could not concentrate anymore... The beating sound piercing through her mind like a blade of a sword through a foe's body.

"I'm curious", he suddenly turned away from the sea, and faced her. "How does it feel to give somebody a kiss of death only to chain him to his beloved ship, and left him to die, to fall straight into the hellish abyss of Davy Jones' Locker?", he asked, looking at her with hurtful interest, a glimpse of cruel satisfaction flashing in his eyes.

Elizabeth stared at him bewildered, horrified, and very pale.

_Good. I've waited long enough, lass. Maybe a tad bit of shock will help ye recover that fine memory of yers, so ye could at last tell me where that bloody chest is._


	38. Chapter 38

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Spoiler: hahaha (It's not me laughing. It's Will...)

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 38**

"What are you talking about? It's not true", whispered Elizabeth shakily, glaring at Barbossa. Her statement apparently contradicting her question, although she did not seem to notice.

Barbossa shook his head, and sighed with mock-sadness. "I'm afraid it is. Quite convenient, not t'remember such things", he added after a pause. "But if I were ye, I'd keep a watchful eye on Jack, for that matter. I merely stranded 'im on a harmless island, an' he's nowhere near forgettin' 'bout that." He glanced at the ocean, and then darted his eyes back to Elizabeth. "Ye don't think he could _ever _forget 'bout bein' betrayed an' killed", now, do ye?", he narrowed his eyes, looking at her expectantly.

Elizabeth stared at him, paler than he has ever seen her before; paler, than when she had witnessed the effects of the Aztec gold curse, paling now at the sound of his words more, than at the sight of ghosts. Looking herself like a ghost at the moment.

She wanted to ask... She wanted to object... But she could not get neither her voice, nor even her thoughts through the noise of the beating sounds that was gradually being replaced by a different sound, a cracking sound, a roaring sound...

"_It's after you..."_

She gasped, terrified by her own voice. Was it her own voice? Could it be...? Could she... How could she? She could not... But she did...

"It's not true", she repeated stubbornly, a trace of annoyance hardly audible in her faltering voice, her eyes wandering around the bow, and the sea, as if looking for some kind of explanation, for somebody to take all those words away, maybe even waiting for Barbossa to take back what he had said.

But Barbossa was not going to take any of his words back. He waited for an effect, for the aftermath, hoping that shock will bring the result in the form of memory retraction soon enough.

"Ye've no idea what the Locker is", he continued, looking at Elizabeth intensely. "What it can be, if ye happened to be sufficiently vulnerable", he trailed off, as Elizabeth took a few steps backwards, still staring at him with forced disbelief, which brought a slight sneer on his face. "Images, sounds, voices." He slowly walked towards her, narrowing his eyes. "Everythin' ye desire to hear, yet everythin' ye can't stand hearin'. Pain, until ye can't hurt anymore, or so ye think, but 'fore long ye realize that the pain will ne'er cease to hurt, 'cause it'll ne'er stop, it'll ne'er go away, for it's not caused by a blade or a bullet, but it's in here", he put a hand over his chest, "an' in here", he briefly touched his head, "rooted permanently, left there to grow like a thorn planted by a treacherous gardener who, expected to feed, instead", he paused, and smiled, "poisoned."

Elizabeth shuddered, as if pierced by his last word, by everything that he had said. "It's not true", the words escaping her mouth almost involuntarily, mechanically, as she walked backwards, holding on to the rail, unfelt tears flowing down her cheeks, she did not even know she was crying. She could no longer hear or feel anything around her, only those voices, well-nigh tangible, talking, shouting, screaming, whispering... Whispering...

"_Pirate."_

* * *

"Hold it damn steady in one bloody place!", shouted Pintel, gesturing wildly towards Ragetti, who tried with all his strength to hold the thick rope as he was instructed, although the task was harder than it seemed. 

"Let that go, an' unfurl that blasted sail!", shouted another crew member from the other side of the mast.

Ragetti's wooden eye blinked in confusion. "Ain't possible t'hold an' t'let go at this same time", he observed matter-of-factly, in a slightly complaining tone of voice.

"That's why I'm not sayin' t'let go!!", screamed Pintel, annoyed, oblivious to the words of the other sailor.

"But 'e's sayin'-", Ragetti tried to argue, but suddenly the ship jostled, just coming against a rougher wave, and the rope slid out of his hands, before he even managed to notice what was happening.

"Watch out!!!", the voice of Marty came loud from the crow's nest.

* * *

"An' then ye married brave Mr. Turner, who, to finish up that lamentable multi-sided quasi-love story, was killed by Jones, an' havin' to choose between dyin' in yer arms, an' sailin' the seas forever, made an obvious choice." Barbossa stood next to Elizabeth, his voice closer to a whisper now, menacingly clear, low, omniscient. 

Elizabeth did not look at him, she leaned against the rail, her eyes fixed on the ocean, the view obscured by tears, and thoughts blended together, shushing voices filling her head, words and sentences coming, and going, images flourishing from nowhere, from her mind, from the memory that still was not there, but she could feel as if it was trying, for the first time she felt as if it was really trying to surface, to come back, to wash over her... to drown her.

"An' so", continued Barbossa despite, or maybe even because of the streams of tears flowing down her cheeks, "his heart was carved out-"

She suddenly turned her head towards him, her eyes red, and wide-open. So this is what it was... It was what that sound was coming from... The beating sound... The beating of the heart...

She hardly listened to Barbossa's next words, about a chest, about the heart being locked... His words veiled by the voice in her head, that gentle voice that did not sound gentle at all in that dream that she had a few nights ago, that voice shouting accusingly: _"You were supposed to keep it safe!"_

Barbossa was still talking, when she suddenly tore herself off the conversation, and ran, just ran not caring where, and why, just wanting to run, to run away from the voices, which were becoming more and more familiar with every passing moment.

"_You were supposed to keep it safe!"_

"_Pirate."_

Two voices. Two voices splitting her heart in two. Two voices calling her, calling to her, calling after her...

And she knew that. She felt that. She felt that she had done something terrible... And she had... And not even once... But all the time... Everytime...

"_This is the only way, don't you see?"_

She tripped, and fell down, awkwardly wiping away the tears, gasping for air, suffocating because of the tears, feeling almost unable to breath, half-wishing to stop breathing at all.

She cried loudly? quietly? She could not tell. She buried her face in her hands, and moaned, her fragile form shaking from crying.

She killed him... She knew she had done something... But she would have never thought...

"_...even if you killed me..."_ Jack's words uttered in a half-serious tone suddenly came back to her. Did he forgive her? Did he really forgive her? Could he forgive her...

"_...out of compassion... in search of a revenge... to satisfy lust..." _Barbossa's voice reverberated in her head, repeating the three phrases tirelessly.

Elizabeth staggered to her feet, her eyes stinging from crying, the tears reaching her lips on their way down her face, leaving a salty, bitter taste in her mouth.

She looked up, and there it was, the main mast, and she felt something running through her, the wind, the sword, the lightning, she could not tell what it was, but suddenly the setting changed, if only slightly. She blinked, and although the view was very much the same, there was something different about it, something...

And then she saw it. She saw a girl... And that girl was... her. She saw herself, with a strange expression on her face, with an expression that she would not trust, it was so obvious the girl was up to something, The girl's hair wet, and slightly dishevelled...

Elizabeth moved slowly towards the image, the illusion, the hallucination...

The memory...

When she took a few steps towards the girl, she saw that there was yet somebody next to her... The girl leaned in, and kissed a man... A man... Jack. The girl kissed Jack. She kissed Jack...

And she was no longer certain whether she could really see anything, or whether it was only her imagination, bringing back those unwanted scenes, those sins worth forgetting, those memories unable to fall into oblivion, those acts that she did not remember regretting, but she regretted that she remembered them now-

Remembered them. Remembered...

Elizabeth screamed, the sound of shackles resounding like a thousand thunders in her head. She threw herself forward, running, running, running-

"Watch out!!!"

The voice would have probably sounded unreal to her, even if she would have heard it.

She did not feel being hit by anything... She just felt the pain... The pain... That pain...

_Just like when that carriage..._ The words abstractedly flashed across her mind, as she collapsed to the floor.

"_I've been sorry... I've really been sorry... I..."_, she whispered to herself, and her eyelids fall over her eyes, hiding the fresh tears under them, turning off the light, turning off the world...

Turning on the past.

* * *

"Words?" Will raised his eyebrows. "There is the meaning behind them, but you probably don't know it, since _your_ words carry no meaning." 

"Ah. Unfortunately, _yer _words carry only the _illusory _meaning", replied Jack in a low tone of voice.

Will's face twitched at the word 'illusory'. He shot Jack a hard look, ready to speak, when he was suddenly interrupted by a loud thud, and the shouts of several crew members.

"And now what?", muttered Jack, heading towards where the shouts were coming from.

Will hesitated for a moment, but eventually decided to follow Jack.

There was a certain commotion, around one of the masts, which was apparently broken. Jack grimaced, hopping over a splintered wood, and looking up at the broken mast in slight irritation.

"What's-", he started in a rather harsh tone of voice, intending to inquire as to the reasons for the damage being made to his ship, when he suddenly stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes widening in shock.

On deck, in a pool of blood, laid... Elizabeth.

"The mast must've been broken since that storm...", somebody started explaining what has happened.

But Jack did not listen. He fell to his knees beside Elizabeth, and quickly brushed her hair from her face. He felt as if they have gone back in time, and it was again that horrible day in Tortuga.

Horrible?... Beautiful, in a way...

She was breathing, and half-consciously shaking her head, gasping for air, and mumbling single, unintelligible words. At least she was not fully unconscious.

There was a gash on the back of her head, it was small, but the amount of blood flowing from it was alarming. Her arm was also bleeding. Jack ripped the sleeve of her dress. The arm was not broken, but it was twisted. He cautiously took her in his arms, and a thought flashed through his mind, that it was exceptionally quiet around them.

But, just to the contrary, the surrounding was anything but quiet. The crew members formed a circle around the scene, they were talking loudly, screaming even, retelling what has happened, arguing as to the causes, answering Will's feverishly asked questions.

Jack did not even notice Will kneeling just next to him, not really knowing what to do, shock, worry, and despair mixed with anger, when Jack scooped Elizabeth in his arms, and carried her below deck. It was him who should carry her, not Jack. He followed them, terrified by seeing her in such a state. Was it like this when that accident had happened? But then he was not there, and now he was, but still, despite that now he could actually do something, he was prevented from doing anything because of _him_, and because _he _behavedas if he had a right to be taking care of her; because _he _was taking care of her.

Will followed Jack to Captain's Quarters, where Jack laid Elizabeth on the bed, making sure not to hurt her arm. Several crew members also appeared in the cabin bringing hot water, fresh cloths, bandages, and rum, without even being asked to do so. They put everything on the cabinet, and left.

Will, without taking his eyes off Elizabeth, reached for the bandages, accidentally nudging a rum bottle, which fell down to the floor, breaking noisily into pieces.

Jack shot a quick look at the broken bottle, and then at Will. "Get the hell out of here", he said sternly, grabbing the bowl of hot water, and a towel. He put the bowl on the floor. When he sat back on the edge of the bed beside Elizabeth, he noticed the traces of tears on her face.

"What?", Will glared at him. "I can do this, and you get out", he said with a frown.

Jack soaked the towel in the water, ignoring Will. He leaned over Elizabeth, and carefully lifted her head, resting it against his chest, and starting to cleanse the gash on the back of her head.

"Leave her alone", ordered Will, annoyed by the fact that there was nothing he could do, just watch what Jack was doing, while it was him who should... His anxiety about Elizabeth laced with anger at _him_, and he was not sure why he felt it like this, but it appeared to him that there was something intimately arrogant in the way _he_ held her, the way _he_ touched her, the way _he_ put her head back on the pillow, the way _he_ brushed loose strands of hair behind her ears (why did he even do that?), the way _he_ ripped off the sleeve of her dress, and tossed it to the floor...

"It's your specialty", muttered Jack, wrinkling his forehead, and carefully examining Elizabeth's arm.

"How dare-", started Will, but stopped, when Elizabeth shivered, and moaned.

"Shhh, luv, it's alright." Jack put his hand to Elizabeth's cheek, stroking it delicately with his thumb.

All of a sudden, his hand was pushed away, and he himself was knocked out from the bed, and onto the floor.

"I said leave her alone!", repeated Will angrily, taking the seat next to Elizabeth, and looking at her worriedly, which was actually the only thing he managed to do, before two surprisingly strong hands clutched the fabric of his shirt from behind, and dragging him away from her, threw him out of the cabin, all within a split second, which did not leave him time for a proper reaction.

Jack slammed the door shut, and locked it, just in time, as Will almost immediately started pressing the knob with fury, but the door did not even twitch.

Jack ignored Will's further shouts, and naive orders, and continued cleansing the gash on Elizabeth's arm. She stirred, and mouthed something he could not understand.

He thought that it was a good sign that she was apparently half-conscious at the moment. He would hate waiting for her regaining consciousness again. He remembered that strangling feeling, when he was not sure whether he will ever hear her voice, or look into her eyes looking back into his again.

He leaned over her, and kissed her softly on the lips. He drew back, and saw with amazement, that her eyes were actually opened, and she was looking at him.

"Lizzie...", he smiled, stroking her face gently.

"Jack", she whispered, her eyes following for a moment the movement of his hand.

Slowly, she tried to push herself up on her elbows, but she hissed in pain, failing to do so.

"No, no, Lizzie, don't do this. You twisted your arm, luv." Jack placed an additional pillow under her back, and one more under her head, helping her to sit up.

All this time she was staring at him with strange curiosity. "Why did you do that?", she asked, with a trace of a smile playing about her lips.

Jack squinted. "Why did I do what?", he inquired with a hesitant smirk.

"Why did you kiss me?", asked Elizabeth quietly, after a pause.

Jack blinked, confused, but before he had a chance to answer, the ship rocked, and it attracted Elizabeth's attention. She looked around, and then gave Jack a surprised look:

"We're not in Tortuga?" She leaned forward in bed, and looked around the cabin. "How come? What's happened?", she asked, looking at Jack expectantly.

For some reason, and perhaps even for the first time in his life, Jack was unable to speak. _It... can't... be..._

"I remember...", Elizabeth grimaced, and bit her lip, "I saw you, and I then... something... a carriage... it was a carriage, right?", she asked, glancing at Jack in search of reassurance, but Jack stared at her utterly speechless. "And then I fell, and...", she paused, and looked pensively into the distance for a moment. "Jack" She looked back at him, her voice bearing that all too familiar trace of slight annoyance. "I don't remember what happened next. For how long was I unconscious? I don't remember... I fell down, and...", she sighed, and shook her head. "Jack, what's happened after that carriage knocked me down?", she asked, looking at him with pure interest.

Jack stared at her in pure shock, knocked out by the question.


	39. Chapter 39

A/N: _**My amazing reviewers: thank you so much for your wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 39**

Fate must have been indeed a very powerful force, for Jack, even if he spent many years thinking would not have probably been able to come up with such a perfect punishment, as was apparently granted upon him at present.

He stared at Elizabeth in bewilderment, pushing away all those awful, not possible (_not probable_, corrected an annoying voice in his head), frustrating assumptions that seemed to become more real with every passing moment.

"Jack, are you all right?", asked Elizabeth concernedly, leaning slightly towards Jack.

"You... don't remember anything after that accident in Tortuga, 'Lizbeth?" Jack looked at her almost fearfully, his voice strangely hollow.

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. "For how long was I unconscious?", she inquired suspiciously, trying to figure out why he was acting so strange. She has never seen him looking that confused. Confusion was not something that could be found on Captain Jack Sparrow's face often, if at all.

_She could not forget... She could not forget that... _

For some reason, he considered it absolutely reasonable for her to forget her whole life, but forgetting these last few days seemed just unimaginable. It must have been some kind of unimaginably cruel joke. Just a joke. A joke. She was joking. She must have been joking.

And yet he knew perfectly well that she wasn't.

"Jack?", Elizabeth tapped him lightly on the shoulder, trying to shake him out of his reverie. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing", he answered mechanically, trying to think of what to do next. What was he supposed to say? How was he supposed to tell her... Because he had to tell her... How could she not remember? Maybe it was just a transient aftermath... Maybe within minutes...

He looked around the room, and then back at her. Elizabeth looked at him, and there was something curiously pleading in his eyes, and... something else too, something... Or maybe it was just his eyes... But there was something different about his eyes either... They were always bewitching, she had to admit that, but now, they looked also strangely familiar... Familiar? Of course they were familiar. They were Jack's eyes, she snorted to herself. But... she just felt an inexplicable connection with his gaze, as if it was a part of her... As if his eyes were a part of her... _Oh, I must have really been hit hard on the head by that carriage._

"How do you... How do you feel, luv?", he stammered at last, trying to regain his composure, unconsciously, automatically, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and gently stroking her hair.

Elizabeth blinked, half-surprised, half-smiling. _What is he... He shouldn't... I shouldn't!..._

"Jack", Elizabeth slightly tilted her head to the side, avoiding his touch. He froze, suddenly realizing what he was doing, and also taken aback by her reaction. He slowly withdrew his hand.

He had expected many things to happen. He had even, half-unconsciously, expected that all of a sudden she may get her memory back, and then probably all hell would break loose. But what he has certainly not expected was her forgetting exactly and exclusively about everything that has happened between them. It would be just too ironic. So cruelly, so perfectly, so justly ironic.

"It's been... It's been several days since that accident", he said at last in a low tone of voice, his eyes slowly losing their constant glittering quality, the fact which did not escape Elizabeth's notice.

"Several days?", she echoed, suddenly feeling an absurd urge to embrace him. And it scared her. She did come to Tortuga to see him, but she only wanted to see him... She must not wanted anything else but see him for a moment, exchange a few words, and then go back to-

She bit her lower lip, falling into a pensive mood, her life engulfing her anew...

Anew?... How strange... She had a feeling that she had been somewhere far away... Far away from everything... And being far away felt so good... so right... so wonderfully carefree... She could almost feel the joy washing over her, but it was fading... it was escaping her... and she could not quite place that feeling anymore...

"We are on the _Black Pearl_?", she asked, looking around, trying to sound ordinary, trying to concentrate on something else but her thoughts.

_I shouldn't have come there... I shouldn't have come to Tortuga... What a terrible idea... _

"Aye", whispered Jack, nervously rubbing his forehead. Maybe he should just tell her right away? He could not believe he had to go through all of this again. Telling her the truth... But now it was different. It was the truth that he wanted to tell her, it was the truth that was wonderful, but-

"_So what is more important for ye, then? She or the truth? Telling her everything that vexes ye, bothers ye, hurts ye, or keep it to yerself, leave it out, let her know only the bright side?"_

His own words came back to him, backstabbing him. And what was the bright side now?

"I was unconscious for several days?", asked Elizabeth hesitantly, suddenly realizing that it was really him that she was talking to. And when she had come to Tortuga, and had been sitting in that tavern, only to leave after some time, giving up the hope to ever see him again, she had seen him... And then that accident had happened, and she had stopped seeing him again... And now... she could see him... And it felt so terrifyingly strange... So... sweet...

She painfully bit the inside of her cheek, feeling a hot wave of guilt rushing through her body. How could she even... _I shouldn't have come... I shouldn't have come at all..._

"No." Jack's voice brought her back to the reality. His voice. Yes, and that too, and she missed that too...

_Stop!..._

"You weren't unconscious for long", started Jack hesitantly, struggling not to begin stroking her hair again. She looked sad, and he just could not stand it. "But when you woke up", he paused, vacillating, staring at her intensely.

Would it be selfish to tell her? Would it be selfish not to tell her? And how should he tell her?

And there was still that whelp somewhere behind the door yet...

"What's happened?", asked Elizabeth barely above whisper. The way he looked at her... And she also felt that she herself looked at him differently, although she did not really know why.

He looked at her intently for a moment, the variety of emotions flashing across his face. He looked at her... And then he thought that no matter what she did or did not remember, she was still the same person, the same Lizzie. His Lizzie.

Ignoring her slightly surprised look, he brought his hand to her face, and leaning into her, his lips only inches from hers, whispered with a smirk flickering across his lips, in a strangely solemn tone of voice:

"Everything."

Elizabeth blinked, and trembled under the touch of his hand. Or rather the word he had said?

She gazed into his eyes, wondering briefly when did they progressed from teasing exchanges to...

She found herself leaning into his touch, and not even trying to evade his lips descending onto hers. He watched her face intently, and she just stared back at him, the word "everything" just beginning to acquire any meaning in her mind, in her imagination, and when she closed her eyes, he caught her lips in between his, kissing her with sweet, unhurried tenderness.

He was kissing her. He was kissing Lizzie from the past, like he was kissing Lizzie with no past at all.

He just wished that one day he could kiss them both simultaneously...

Elizabeth tried to ignore all the scolding voices screaming at her in her head, but she couldn't. She reluctantly pulled away. Jack looked at her with a glimpse of sad understanding in his eyes. She wanted to say something, but then, a sudden, and loud knocking on the door made them both jump up in their seats.

"Open the door!", came a rather angry voice from the other side.

Elizabeth's eyes widened. She looked at the door, and then back at Jack, who stared at the floor, his hand dropping from Elizabeth's face down on the bed.

"Is it...", whispered Elizabeth, baffled. She felt as if she has just come back from a long journey, and now the reality, the world that she had left behind was coming back to her, rushing towards her, and it was just too much for her to take in at once; at the moment; at this moment, when she could still feel the taste of his lips on hers... "Is it Will?", she asked incredulously, half-surprised that she was asking that question instead of just running to the door...

Jack nodded, and mumbled something that sounded like "aye", but she was not sure. His eyes were still fixed on the floor. And he apparently had no intention of answering the door at all.

"Are you going to open the door?", she asked in a whisper, still not knowing why she was asking him questions, instead of...

Jack quickly shifted his eyes from the floor to Elizabeth, looking at her thoughtfully. "And if I'm not?", he asked half-hesitantly, half-threateningly, narrowing his eyes.

"Open the door right now!" Will's voice, coming from the other side of the door reverberated in the cabin.

Elizabeth glanced at the door, and then looked back at Jack again. _Just go and open the door_, a part of her advised her; the other part not listening to the advice.

"What is going on?" Elizabeth looked at Jack searchingly, her voice faltering.

"Tell me, Lizzie", he suddenly leaned towards her again, his hand quickly travelling from the bed, to her hand, and then up her arm, until it rested on the back of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. "Tell me why did you come to Tortuga?", he asked in an urgent whisper.

Elizabeth studied his face in silence, caught off guard by the question. Why did she come to Tortuga? Why did she come?... To rest... To forget... To get away... To see him...

To see him. _To see you. _But she could not tell him that, could she?

"Open the door at once!"

"I-I don't know", she lied, alarmed by the knocking, alarmed by Jack's behaviour... _And what did he even mean by "everything"?_

He seemed to be rather unhappy with her answer. Or maybe he just did not believe her?

"Don't know?", he asked, his voice low, and hardly audible against the loud knocking.

She looked at him unblinkingly, digging her fingernails into the bed sheet. He did not notice that, his eyes focused on her face, and her eyes, waiting for her to say something, to make an amendment, but she was silent, so after another moment, he slowly staggered to his feet, and walked to the door.

She felt like she should call him... but she didn't. Why was she even thinking about that right now. Will was here. Will was here! _That _was something to think of right now. Something wonderful, too.

Wonderful... Why did she even have to tell herself that?... She grimaced. Something was wrong. Something in her mind was wrong. _In my mind... In my mind?... In my..._

"Elizabeth!" Will burst into the cabin, his eyes widening at the sight of her being awaken, and looking quite well. An initially angry look on his face quickly replaced by the look of perfect joy and utter relief. "You're awake!"

Elizabeth smiled, and wanted to say something, but then an image flashed across her mind, holding her back.

"_Promise me..." _

But the image was blurred.

Unlike the voice.

She glanced at Jack who stood by the door, leaning against the wall; watching her.

"Will", she said with a happy smile, trying to focus, trying to understand why she was not overjoyed... She was supposed to be overjoyed. It was Will. Will was here. She was supposed to be breathless from happiness.

Will's eyes widened in surprise. He knelt by the bed, and took her hand in his. "Elizabeth. You remember me?", he asked incredulously, with a yet uncertain smile.

"Remember you?", she shook her head in bafflement.

"Move" Jack waved his hands at Will, suddenly approaching, and motioning him to move backwards.

Will gave him a stern look, but then decided not to start an argument in Elizabeth's presence, especially that, apparently, everything was again in perfect order.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, and with a fresh cloth soaked in water, casually continued cleansing the gash on Elizabeth's arm.

Will ostentatiously sighed with annoyance, but said nothing.

Elizabeth looked from Will to Jack with curiosity, trying to figure out what was going on. Jack took her hand in his, careful not to outstretch her arm too much, and proceeded cleansing. She shivered.

"I'm sorry", he muttered, thinking that he must have pressed the cloth too roughly to her skin.

But that was not it.

Elizabeth smiled at Will, who smiled back at her, and then frowned, continuing watching Jack. Elizabeth looked back at Jack, who seemed exclusively focused on the gash, his brows furrowed in concentration. She pretended to be very much interested in the cleansing process, while the uncountable amount of thoughts raced wildly across her mind, as she tried to understand why she felt that overwhelming feeling of joy, only because he held her hand in his.

...and why she had felt almost nothing when Will touched her hand a moment ago.

Jack must have noticed that something was not right, because when he withdrew his hand, she shivered again, and now it could not be because he irritated the gash in any way. But he glanced up at her with no particular expression on his face.

"Go get hot water, this one has cooled down", said Jack, turning to Will, and handing him the bowl, which he took automatically. He looked at the bowl in annoyance, and wanted to protest, but then he glanced at Elizabeth who smiled at him sweetly. He thought that it was really unnecessary right now, putting her in a position of listening to them arguing, so he reduced his irritation to shooting Jack an unfriendly look, and walking out of the cabin with words "I will be right back" sounding more like a threat than a promise.

As soon as the door closed behind Will, Elizabeth's sweet smile vanished. She quickly leaned towards Jack, almost causing him to fall down from the bed in surprise.

"What is going on?", she asked irritably.

"Nothing", he replied astonished, blinking innocently.

"Jack!" She pulled her hand out of his grasp in annoyance, but regretted the gesture immediately, gasping from pain.

"Careful, Lizzie, it's twisted." Jack delicately took her arm in his hands, looking at her concernedly.

She grimaced, and gasped again, frowning at him wordlessly.

"We'll bandage it in a moment", he muttered, running his dark, ringed fingers up and down her arm, and she was not entirely sure if it was a necessary part of the healing process.

She trembled. He looked up, and smiled at her impishly.

And it struck her, the realization of just how much she missed that smile.

"What Will was talking about?", she asked matter-of-factly, trying to ignore the shivers that his touch was sending up her spine.

Jack grimaced slightly. He got quite unused to hearing _that _name spoken by her.

"Aye", said Jack with a sigh. "Sometimes it's rather difficult to make through his speaking patterns-"

"Jack!" Elizabeth cut him off impatiently.

Jack rolled his eyes, and took his hand away from her arm, and she decidedly did not like the fact that she did not like the fact that he did that.

"After that accident in Tortuga, Lizzie", he paused, and looked at her pensively. "You've lost your memory. You didn't remember what had happened before that accident, like right now you don't remember what happened after", he concluded grimly.

"And what happened after?", she asked all of a sudden, ignoring the first part of his explanation, hit by a sudden, terrifying suspicion.

Jack rubbed his forehead, looking at her hesitantly.

"Jack", she said in a quiet, but alarmed tone of voice.

"Well", he tilted his head, not sure what to tell her, whether to tell her, how to tell her...

"Did we", she whispered, nervously biting her lip, "kiss?"

Jack squinted somewhat fearfully, and nodded.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and sighed. "A lot?", she gasped, opening her eyes.

Jack tried very hard not to chuckle, and nodded again.

Elizabeth hid her face in her uninjured hand, and sighed again.

It crossed Jack's mind that it apparently had not even crossed Elizabeth's mind that he might have not told her the truth about the past back then... And it made him feel slightly uncomfortable.

Elizabeth felt terrible. How could she...? She really really really should not have come to Tortuga. She should have known better than going to Jack... She should have stayed in that house of hers, and tried not to think about... him; tried to fight that... _emotion _that began vexing her since that day when she... when she had sat in that longboat feeling as if she had just died. An emotion... The emotion...

_No. I love Will. I love Will. I love-_

She looked up abruptly, meeting Jack's dark eyes looking at her meekly. "We", she started, almost choking on the words that she did not even say yet. "We did not do... anything more... Right?" She looked at him hesitantly, studying his face with anxiety.

"I'm back", announced Will, opening the door, and walking into the cabin with a bowl of hot water in one hand, and some food in the other. "I brought you something to eat, Elizabeth, in case you're hungry", he said with a smile, stepping to the cabinet, and placing all the food there.

"Thank you", muttered Elizabeth blankly, her eyes locked with Jack's, as she waited for him to give her some kind of answer yet, she waited for him to snort, to chuckle, to shake his head in denial, to do something, to do anything, anything that she could possibly interpret as a reassuring "no".

But he just sat there, and looked at her with those fathomless eyes of his.

"Jack?" Gibbs timidly walked into the cabin. "Miss Elizabeth!", he smiled noticing Elizabeth sitting up in bed.

Elizabeth smiled, wondering briefly why did Gibbs called her _Miss _Elizabeth.

"Jack, can ye come on deck for a moment?", asked Gibbs.

"I presume it's something important", said Jack, shooting him a grim look.

* * *

Will gladly closed the door behind Jack, and turned to Elizabeth with a smile, but this time she did not smile back, staring gloomily into the distance, deep in thought. 

"Elizabeth?", Will asked concernedly, sitting beside her.

She looked at him absent-mindedly.

"You all right?", he inquired, taking her hands in his.

"Yes, yes, of course, I'm fine", she nodded, trying to shake herself out of her thoughts. _What was I thinking?! I must have gone mad... Completely. Completely mad._

_I wish I remembered that..._ She thought all of a sudden, and immediately scolded herself for such outrageous thinking.

_Unless he's just teasing me... Yes. It must be that. It must be just that. And he probably thinks it funny. Oh, I will get him for that. Bloody pirate._

"...how happy I am that you have your memory back."

Elizabeth at last snapped back into the reality, realizing that all the while Will had been talking, and she had not been listening.

"Yes, I'm happy too", she said quickly, forcing a smile. _What would happen to Will, if... No, no. Nothing has happened. Nothing could have happened. I wouldn't have done it..._

"...didn't even tell you my name..." Will's voice interrupted her thoughts once again.

"What?" She suddenly looked at Will intently. "What did you say?"

"I said that I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't even tell you my name", repeated Will with a snort.

Elizabeth looked at him, baffled. Will sighed, quickly realizing that she did not know that...

"When you lost your memory in that accident, Jack did not tell you who you were, and he pretended that he didn't know you. He told me that it was the doctor who had said that it would be better- Elizabeth!", exclaimed Will, when Elizabeth suddenly get out of the bed, and in no time stormed off the cabin. "Elizabeth! Your arm! Wait! Elizabeth! Your shoes!", Will quickly rose to his feet, and ran after her.

* * *

"So, what we'll do 'bout that?", asked Gibbs, pointing to something on the map which Jack was holding in his hands. 

Jack was about to answer, when the map was suddenly knocked out of his hands.

"You... you... you... liar!" Elizabeth stood in front of him, supporting her injured arm with her other hand.

Jack blinked. Gibbs took few steps backwards, diplomatically moving away from the range of fire.

"Lizzie-luv-", started Jack cautiously.

"We have to talk", she cut in sharply, glaring at him.

"Of course. It's just that I'm quite busy now-", he turned to Gibbs, who timidly nodded his head in agreement to Jack's statement.

"We have to talk _at once_!!!", shouted Elizabeth so loud, that it seemed that all the movement aboard the _Black Pearl _has stopped in shock.

"Oh." Jack smiled faintly, glancing around the deck, as several crew members stopped in mid-whatever action they were involved at the moment, observing the scene with curiosity. "Well. As I said I'm quite busy right now, but since you're asking so nicely-"

Elizabeth gave him one more angry look, and without waiting for him to finish speaking stormed off, heading back below.

"Master Gibbs", called Jack in a slightly faltering tone of voice.

"Cap'n" Gibbs quickly approached him.

"Should I not be back, make sure that mast will be fixed", said Jack quietly with a grimace, and reluctantly followed Elizabeth.

"Aye", nodded Gibbs, his voice filled with deep compassion, and only a tad bit of amusement.


	40. Chapter 40

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the awesome reviews!**_

...since many of my wonderful reviewers mentioned the phrase _the end_ in their reviews (apparently & justly annoyed with the insufferable length of this story...), I felt obliged to warn everybody that, unfortunately, the end of this story is (as far as I know) not near...;)

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 40**

"Forgetful wife, ye've got yerself, Captain Turner, that's for sure", chuckled Barbossa, learning about the recent events, standing near the helm in the company of Gibbs, Will, and Bill Turner.

Will ignored him.

"So... now she remembers everything that happened before that accident in Tortuga, but doesn't remember anything that happened after that. Strange, ain't it?", said Gibbs with a sigh, shaking his head in wonder.

"Yes", nodded Will with a small smile, but then, suddenly, he wrinkled his forehead, and looked at Gibbs with bafflement. "Tortuga?", he asked incredulously. "That accident happened in Tortuga?"

Gibbs blinked. "Aye", he muttered with a grimace, realizing that he had just said something that he probably should not have said.

Barbossa glanced at Will interestedly. "Bootstrap" Bill Turner looked at Barbossa intently.

_What was Elizabeth doing in Tortuga?_, thought Will grimly.

* * *

Elizabeth opened the door to Captain's Quarters, walked inside, and waited by the door for Jack to come in. 

Jack came into his own cabin, with a similar feeling that accompanied him on his way to the gallows. Only this time it was worse, since there was no hope of more or less miraculous escape.

When he walked in, Elizabeth slammed the door shut angrily, making Jack jump.

"Careful, luv. That's me favorite door, ye know-", he trailed off as she appeared right in front of him, looking more furious than he has ever seen her before.

Beautiful still. But furious, nonetheless.

"Is this true?", she asked, glaring at him intensely.

"Yes", said Jack with a smile. "It really is my fav-"

"Is this true!", she screamed, cutting him off. "Is it true that you didn't tell me that we knew each other? Is it true that you pretended to be a stranger?" She stepped closer to him. "Is it true that you... lied to me?" She almost hesitated before finishing her last question. After all, why was she even surprised?!

He looked at her, suddenly serious. She was so close, yet so far away right now.

Now, at last, it was really over.

* * *

Bill Turner returned to the _Flying Dutchman_, to check about the ship.Will stayed on the _Black Pearl _to wait for Elizabeth. He wanted to take her back to Port Royal, or to England, whichever she would choose. The Fountain of Youth was not even half as important as taking her away from here. Besides, the Fountain could wait. And now, when she had her memory (or at least the better part of it) back, taking her away should not be difficult. Surely, she herself would like to go, especially after learning that Jack had lied to her, and tried to take advantage of her... 

Will walked to the bow of the ship, and leaned against the rail, looking out at the sea.

Tortuga. She was in Tortuga... Why was she in Tortuga?

* * *

"Say something!", exclaimed Elizabeth, after waiting a few moments for Jack to answer her, but he just stood there, looking at her gloomily, so unusually, so sadly quiet. 

For a split second she felt awful for making him feel like this, because judging form the look in his eyes, he was really sad at the moment. But she quickly pushed the thought away. It was his fault after all. It was him who had lied to her. And it would be ridiculous for her to feel sad, because he felt sad, because-

"Yes, I did not tell you that we know each other, 'Lizbeth", he spoke at last rather hurriedly. "And no, I don't regret it", he added unsmilingly, and – for the lack of a better idea – arrogantly, looking at her steadily, and then walked past her, going to his desk, taking his hat, and his coat off, and throwing them on a chair.

Elizabeth stood transfixed for a moment, before turning around, her hands rolling into fists.

"What do you mean you don't regret it. You deceived me!", she shouted at his back, as he was moving around the items on his desk rather purposelessly.

"I did not deceive you! I just... did not tell you the truth", he said with a frown, turning to face her. "And I don't regret it, 'cause-", he broke off, staring into her eyes, which sparkled with anger, but also something else, something that he knew was there, something that he had seen, and felt in the past week, but now it was veiled by that murky reality that without a warning washed over them with fury. "Because it was the most beautiful week of my life, alright?", he growled, suddenly angry with himself, angry that he had to say it, that he wanted to say it, that it was true, and that at the moment, she probably could not make much sense of it. He looked at her for a moment yet, and then stormed off in the direction of his bookshelves.

Elizabeth followed him with her gaze, wide-eyed, transiently speechless. What did he just say? What did the notorious and fearsome pirate Captain Jack Sparrow just say?

"But... you lied to me!", she repeated stubbornly, trying to put herself together, trying to be consistent. _I. Love. Will. _"And how about my life? What right did you have to take it away from me?" She quickly walked up to him.

He stood staring at the books, avoiding her eyes. "No right", he said in a low tone of voice. "No right at all, except-"

"Except what?" She asked through her gritted teeth, watching his profile intently.

She could not help noticing (simultaneously cursing herself for noticing it) how handsome he was with these dark, alluring eyes, narrow, enticing lips, and when he looked at her...

"Except the right to act on a selfish impulse", he said with a small, forced, sarcastic smile.

...when he looked at her she felt giddy, and... important. What a combination, indeed.

"I thought you were a good man", said Elizabeth grimly.

Jack snorted. "As I said before. All evidence to the contrary, luv", he replied pensively.

They locked eyes for a moment. He, thinking about that night when she had come to him, and told him that she loved him. She, trying to imagine all these moments she did not remember, all these moments... in his arms. She trembled. He smirked. She glared at him angrily.

"Did you even think of Will-", she started peevishly, but he cut her off immediately, his smirk disappearing.

"Ah!", he exclaimed, walking away from her again. "Indeed. How did I dare not to think even for one bloody minute 'bout dear William well-being! That's truly astounding. Unforgivable, really. 'How about Will?', he mocked her. "You've no bloody idea just how much I missed that question!", he shouted, and stopped, breathing heavily, looking at her for a moment, and then averting his eyes from her.

He did not want to shout at her. But he really did not know how to handle this conversation. What was he supposed to tell her? You had said you loved me? How lamentable that would be.

Elizabeth stared at him, taken aback by such an outburst. She has never really heard him yell like that before. She looked at him, outraged, yet worried. _What if he actually..._

"How can you say that?", she at last managed to form a coherent sentence. She came closer to him, trying to look him in the eye. "You know what can...", she said quietly, "what could happen to him if-"

"Actually, I have to admit that I didn't think about that _at all_", cut in Jack, looking at her challengingly. "Bewildering, isn't it? An entire week without a single thought about Mr. Turner", he said sourly with a grimace. "Unbelievably unimaginable, aye?"

"Why did you do that?" She asked coldly, going back to the beginning of the conversation, seeing that _that _topic was hopeless, and instead thinking of something cruel to say, something cruel enough to make him really angry, so he might stop staring at her, and hypnotizing her with that annoying gaze, annoying smile, annoying charm of his, while she was married, and she loved Will, and she loved Will, and she loved... (her concentration failing her for a moment)... Will. WillWillWill. "Why, Jack? To... have your way with me?", she blurted out.

And her heart sunk. She never knew a person could pale that fast.

Jack stared at her wide-eyed, looking as if somebody has run a sword through him.

"Is that what you think?", he asked hollowly, almost glaring at her, although he knew that she was only trying to protect herself, she was only trying to walk out of this situation unharmed, to walk out, and walk back to her proper, entrapping, illusion of a life with a clear conscience.

She bit her lip, staring at him with irritation, feeling the undesirable tears gathering in her eyes. "Yes", she pouted, her hands curled into fists, her nails digging into her palms; mercilessly.

"Ah. Can't say it was particularly difficult, though", he retorted, and regretted even before the very first syllable was over.

Elizabeth froze, and then took one quick step towards him, slapped him as hard as she could, and screamed, suddenly remembering her twisted arm, which, unwisely used for slapping, sent waves of pain throughout her body. She collapsed to the floor, but before she hit the hard wood, two strong arms caught her, and pulled her close.

"I'm sorry", he whispered into her hair, falling to the floor with her, sitting her down in his lap. "I'm sorry, Lizzie, I'm...", he kissed her on the cheek, and the kiss left a strangely bitter taste in his mouth. He looked at her. Tears were streaming down her face, and she shook from crying.

He wrapped his arms around her, rested her head against his chest, and rocked her, gently stroking her hair.

She snuggled her face into his chest, breathing in his scent, only then realizing that it had haunted her, that it was this scent that had kept haunting her at nights in that solitary house. And so many times, too many times she had been drifting off to sleep engulfed by that imaginary scent of wild freedom, perilous adventure, untamed sea, and ever-burning rum.

Only now it was not imaginary; it was real.

She felt his lips trailing hot, soft kisses along the side of her face. She should have slapped him again. But instead, she closed her eyes, and relaxed in his embrace, tilting back her head, and letting him brush away her tears with his lips.

"_Will you keep it safe?"_

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and with an angry gasp broke out of Jack's embrace, and staggered to her feet.

"Lizzie...", he whispered, getting hold of her hand.

"Don't touch me!", she shouted, pulling her hand out of his, and awkwardly supporting her twisted arm with it.

"Let me see that... Let me...", he followed, his voice strangely pleading, that it was almost breaking her heart, for she knew he was not a pleading-voice kind of person. But she stumbled away from him nevertheless, sobbing.

"No!", she screamed with infantile anger, pacing around the cabin, holding her arm, and crying.

Jack stood motionlessly just watching her for a moment, not knowing what to do, feeling that once again all his actions were somehow going awry, all his words were coming out clumsy, all his gestures were turning out to be superfluous or insufficient. And the world was clouding over once again.

He walked towards her, and blocked her way, cupping her face in his hands. "Lizzie, please, listen to me...", he started in a low, urgent voice.

"What for?", she snorted, snatching herself from his touch. "You have some more lies to tell me? I've had enough already! Thank you!" She swallowed the tears, trying to stop crying. Why was she crying? Why was she even crying?

"There is a truth behind every lie, 'Lizbeth", he said in a solemn voice, looking at her intently, half-wishing that it was only a dream, from which he would wake up to that lovely sight of her laying in his arms with a smile on her sleeping face.

She stared at the floor, her uneven breathing almost audible in the cabin, as she struggled to calm down, to organize her thoughts, to remember what she was supposed to do.

And she was supposed to tell him that he was a bloody liar, and then storm off the cabin, and tell Will to get her to land, and then go back to that village near Port Royal, sat down in an armchair, and wait for over nine years yet until her life would begin... It sounded awful, but it was not awful. It was as it should be. She loved Will. And it was all that mattered. Love...

...But if she had not remembered anything... If he had not told her... If she had thought she had not known him... Then how come she had let him kiss her... Barely knowing him... Knowing him for several days... She had let him kiss her... And not only kiss her...

She shivered, and looked up. He stood very close, propping her chin with his hand, looking into her eyes with that dark, devilishly sweet intensity, as if he has owned her soul.

But he hasn't. He must not think he has.

"I believe I didn't do anything against you, or against your will, Lizzie", he said in a resolute, but quiet tone of voice. "I didn't tell you that I knew you... And I didn't tell you that you knew me... But perhaps it was not a lie, after all." He let go of her chin, brushing the last of her tears away from her face with the back of his hand. "Do you think we really knew each other?", he asked, studying her face closely. "Have we ever told each other anything apart from deliberately convoluted, ethereal sentences, hiding behind the words with determination that deserved a better cause?", he narrowed his eyes, his hand resting on her shoulder, his thump absent-mindedly brushing across her collarbone. "Have we ever _met_ without a context, without an ongoing or upcoming won't say whom rescue mission? Yes, I could tell you that I knew you, and that somewhere out there you have a fortunately bonnie and unfortunately cursed husband, or I could tell you something that I had failed to tell you before, that I had kept failing to tell you, and that I couldn't have told you in that reality that had been run over by that carriage in Tortuga... I could tell you, show you that... it would have worked out between us, 'Lizbeth", she trailed off with a thoughtful smile, his eyes sparkling faintly.

She stared at him with stubborn annoyance, with sadness that she tried to overcome, with her heart beating furiously in her chest, and her eyes full of silent fury for making her feel like this, for making her burn under his gaze, and his touch, for making her feel what she has been forbidden to feel. She was forbidden to feel that for him. Yet, she felt that. She felt that for him, and for no one else but him. And she hated him for that. She hated him for making her feel what she was so good at trying not to feel.

"You're a selfish liar", she whispered sharply, shaking from anger. Or at least believing that it was anger... "You knew I would've never... I am not that kind of person. I would've never consciously-"

"Am I to understand you are unconscious now, luv?", he asked with a trace of his roguish smile flickering across his lips.

Elizabeth blinked, but before she managed to ask for a clarification, his lips claimed hers, and his arms closed around her. She did try to break free, pushing him away, even punching him with her healthy hand, although it was rather difficult having her body pressed to his tightly, and her hands caught in between them.

She tried to bite him, and she even succeeded, catching his lips in between hers for a moment, but it only brought a grin on his face, and he tightened his embrace, and kissed her harder, with fervent passion that almost torn her mind to pieces. She stopped struggling, falling into the kiss, feeling guilty, yet the sense of guilt was not strong enough to balance that wild, intoxicating sweetness of his lips which could conjure up stars and fireworks under her closed eyelids. She gave in, and deepened the kiss, images flashing across her imagination, across her... memory?... A storm... There was a storm... And it was raining hard... And it was dark... And she... stood at the helm?... Happiness washing over her... Or was happiness washing over her right now?...

But there was yet another storm... Filled with death, and blood, and some fate that was scratching her life away...

... and a wedding...

"_Will you keep it safe?"_

Elizabeth broke the kiss, and pulled away, trying to catch her breath, trying to catch her common sense.

"Why are you doing this to me?", she gasped, looking at him with a pained expression on her face.

Jack stared at her in silence, breathing raggedly, the fire in his eyes fading.

"It's too late", she said so quietly, that her voice was barely audible, tears beginning to flow down her cheeks once again.

Jack's mouth twitched. "It's always been too late", he said with a blank, brief, rueful smile. "Can I... bandage your arm?", he asked after a pause, looking at her hesitantly, although somewhere deep in his mind sadness and grief were slowly being defeated by perseverance and hope. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow. _It's not over yet. It's just begun._

She looked at him with glassy eyes, and nodded.

* * *

"Anythin' particular on yer mind, Captain Turner?" 

Will turned his head, shaken out of his thoughts by the husky voice. He glanced at Barbossa disinterestedly, and shifted his gaze back to the sea.

Barbossa chuckled darkly. "As always Miss Swann, I suppose", he squinted.

"It's Mrs. Turner", replied Will blankly, rubbing the black, wooden rail absent-mindedly.

Barbossa smiled. "Indeed. Forgive me. Old habits die hard, ye see."

Will glanced at him suspiciously.

"So... Where'd be yer lovely wife right now?", started Barbossa, and without waiting for Will to answer, continued. "Scolding our unforgettable captain, I imagine?"

"Precisely", replied Will stiffly, considering walking away. He needed to be alone with his thoughts at the moment.

"I give ye a piece of advice", said Barbossa resting his hands on the rail, and looking out at the ocean. Will raised his eyebrows doubtfully, not recalling asking for any advice. "Don't form alliances with those who share yer desires. Better t'make deals with those who want different things than ye do. This way ye can't lose, even if ye don't win."

"Thank you. I think I'll go to write it down now", answered Will with a small, artificial smile, turning around, and intending to walk away.

"When a woman yells it always means that she cares. It's when she smiles that it may mean nothing at all", said Barbossa in a low, calm tone of voice. Will stopped in his tracks, but did not turn around. "Should yer self-confidence decrease, ye know where t'find me", added Barbossa with a trace of a sneer flashing across his features, as he turned around, and slowly walked away, leaving Will staring grimly into the distance.


	41. Chapter 41

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 41**

"And then?..." Elizabeth glanced up at Jack from under her eyelashes, looking at him while his eyes were focused on her arm, and on his hands that were almost done with bandaging.

"Then you said you wanted to know what did it feel like to stand at the helm in the middle of a stormy, starry night", muttered Jack, feeling more and more uncomfortable with that enforced story-telling, as it was inevitably progressing towards the more and more complicating events, which he had no idea how to relate.

Elizabeth snorted. "I guess I was being quite... poetic", she said, arching an eyebrow sceptically, and then wrinkled her forehead remembering something else. "So you were strolling with me around that filthy town asking whether anybody happened to know me?!", she asked irritably.

Jack finished up bandaging, and looked up at her with his eyes narrowed. "Strictly speaking, it was your idea in the first place, luv."

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "This is a rather ridiculous explanation", she stated resolutely.

"But it's a true one", retorted Jack with a faint smirk. "Only sometimes a true explanation doesn't explain anything, aye", he added in a low tone of voice.

Elizabeth studied his face for a moment, and then looked down at his hand laying on top of hers. She did not know that such a simple touch could sent such intense waves of heat all over her body.

"Lies are indeed self-explanatory. They show lack of respect and lack of trust", said Elizabeth sternly, still staring at their hands, and trying to analyze that absurd feeling; analyze, and get rid of.

"Trust?", Jack raised his eyebrows. "Trust had nothing to do with it, Lizzie. You wouldn't have gone with me, if I had told you the truth, that's all."

"That's all?" Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes lighting up with fury once again. "You just", she hesitated, searching for a right word, "erased", she spat, "my life for your own, dirty," Jack winced, "selfish, pirate reasons, and all you have to say is that you did it just to shanghai me," Jack knitted his eyebrows, "into sailing with you, so you could... you could... take your revenge on me!", she finished in a loud voice, although she was not too convinced about what she was saying.

"Revenge?", echoed Jack sincerely baffled.

Elizabeth made herself at last pull her hand out of his touch, and rise to her feet. Why did it feel so bad suddenly not to feel his skin on hers? She bit her lip, brushing the feeling away.

"Yes, revenge", she replied with bitterness. "It must have been very amusing for you, listening to me speculating about my past, about my life, making me an object of ridicule for everybody on board!"

Jack staggered to his feet, looking at her intensely, his heart beating unevenly at the memories of those moments when she had cried, when she had screamed, and suffered, haunted by the past. He hated himself in those moments for not telling her, for not alleviating her torment if only slightly by revealing the truth. But he could not have told her, he could not have risked losing her.

"Revenge on you?", he repeated, still not entirely sure what she had meant.

All those cheerful moments, admiring smiles, sweet gestures, amusing exchanges, ardent kisses were to be summarized as... revenge?

Elizabeth looked at him darkly, and then took a few steps towards him, and said in a very quiet, but distinct tone of voice:

"I betrayed you, so in retaliation you made me betray Will", she said with pretended confidence, the words leaving a lie-like cold, bitter taste in her mouth.

The soft humming of the waves brushing against the ship was the only sound audible in the cabin at the moment.

Jack stared at Elizabeth steadily, his eyes inscrutable. She did not dare to breath, waiting for him to say something. She suddenly wanted him to just say something, to say anything, to do anything else but stare at her like that.

He blinked, as if suddenly snapping back into the reality from his stupor, and then absent-mindedly glanced around the cabin, and...

...walked past her, and left the bedroom. Without a single word.

Elizabeth stood motionlessly, listening intently, as if waiting for something... Maybe he would-

She cringed, as the door to Captain's Quarters slammed shut.

He really left.

And instead of following the whispers of her heart, and running after him, she just leaned against the wall, closed her eyes, slid down to the floor, and let the tears flow down her cheeks, these tears that contradicted everything that she had wanted to believe... And she could not tell him the truth. She could not tell him that she had come to Tortuga in search of him, to say that she was sorry for what she had done, that she was sorry for_ many _things that she had done, and that she... But it was too late. It was too late then, and it was too late now... _"It's always been too late."_

"_Will you keep it safe?"_

"_Yes." _She would. She will.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and threw herself to the floor, wailing in pain.

* * *

Barbossa squatted down, and pulled out a part of the floorboard in his cabin. He reached inside a small rift, and pulled a piece of thick paper out of it, blew off the dust, unfurled the paper, and sat comfortably in an armchair by the table. 

He turned the book that laid before him upside down, and opened it. A half of the last, yellowed page was missing. He carefully matched the unfurled chart with the jagged page in the book, and smiled to himself contentedly.

"An' now we'll see why and if 'it's not wo_r_th it'", he mocked Villanueva, and squinted.

* * *

Elizabeth wiped her eyes with her sleeve, and staggered to her feet. She tucked the locks of her hair behind her ears, and walked over to a small mirror that laid on the cabinet. She looked exhausted, and her eyes were red from crying. 

She put the mirror down with a shaky hand, almost dropping it, and smoothed her dress. She hesitated, not wishing Will to see her like this. She slumped down in a chair, and stared blankly into the distance.

Will. She looked down at her hands to look at... And her eyes widened in astonishment when instead of her wedding ring, there was a rather thick, gold ring with a beautiful, shiny green stone in it. And she has known that ring. She brushed her thumb across the gem with timidity, wondering how that ring had come on her finger. With what words... What gestures... In what circumstances... What for?...

She slowly rose to her feet, and walked towards the door. She did not want to leave. She felt an absurd urge not to leave. And yet, she knew she had to leave.

She rested her forehead against the wall, and hit the wall with her fist, biting her lip in order not to cry. It had never hurt like this before. It had never hurt _that much _before. It had always hurt a little, so she could have had herself almost always convinced that it was nothing important, nothing significant, just a twinge of attraction, of longing, of some irritatingly enchanting fire that he had always managed to ignite in her somehow, with a mere look into her eyes, with a mere brush of his hand against hers, with a mere sound of his voice echoing in her head, in her mind, in her heart...

But now it was different, it was stronger, it was as if something has woken up inside of her, twisting her thoughts, questioning her every excuse, causing her to feel so drastically, so incomprehensibly empty when he was not near... And he was not near... And he was not going to be... And the realization was suffocating.

She inhaled, and exhaled deeply, and putting herself together, ran out of the cabin determined to put her life back together.

Although at the moment she felt as if she neither could, nor wanted to live anymore.

* * *

Jack stormed into the rum cellar, closed the door behind him with an angry thud, grabbed a random bottle of rum (which happened to be empty, so he threw it against the wall loudly breaking it into pieces, and then reached for another bottle). He slumped down on the floor, rested his back against the wall, and uncorked the bottle... or rather tried to uncork it, but the cork was stuck, and he struggled with it for a while, only to finally give in, and threw the bottle against the wall as before, hitting almost the exact same spot. The bottle broke, spilling the rum all over the floor. 

"Bloody rum always has to be gone", he muttered, feeling very much in the mood of breaking things. He looked around in search of something he could punch, kick, brake, or shoot (bloody monkey was unfortunately gone as well), but could not find anything interesting to destroy. He sat for a moment motionless, except for his eyes which were chaotically wandering around the dark cellar.

Revenge. How could she even come up with such an idea. What for did she bring _that _story up again at all. They did not need it. They did not need to remember about it. They were past it.

And then she had to mention _him_ as well.. Astounding, how she had put all those most outrageous pieces of their lives in one short sentence.

Jack crossed his arms over his chest, and wrinkled his forehead. What if she still...

Yet when they kissed it felt the same... He grimaced, and jumped up to his feet.

"Bloody touchy scallywag", he muttered to himself in a scolding voice, storming out of the cellar.

* * *

"Elizabeth" Will ran towards her as soon as he noticed her approaching. He smiled with relief. She was not even gone for long. She must have just told Jack what she thought about what he had done, and that was all. That was it. How could he even- "Elizabeth!" He grimaced at the sight of her tears-stained face. 

"I'm all right", she said in a slightly faltering tone of voice, giving him a reassuring smile.

"_It's when she smiles..."_

"What's happened? Did he hurt you?" Will put his hands on her shoulders, and looked at her with searching intensity, his voice angry, and worried.

"No", Elizabeth winced, and shook her head, suddenly paling, as she felt-

"You're so pale", he said quietly with a deep concern in his voice, pulling her towards him, and closing her in an embrace.

Elizabeth stiffened, staring at the dark fabric of his shirt with her eyes wide open, as he held her close, rubbing her back in a gesture that ought to be soothing.

She tried to open her eyes even wider, so the tears would not began to flow again. She caught her bottom lip in between her teeth to keep from screaming. For a moment there she thought that she would go insane. She tried to calm down. Nothing was happening. There was really nothing going on except for Will, for her husband holding her in an embrace. Yet, she felt as if she was going to die. Why? She did not understand. She just could not stand it. She just could not stand his arms wrapped around her. But why? It was Will. And she loved him. She loved him... And it was Will, only Will, her Will, Will, and yet his touch caused her almost physical pain. She wanted to scream. It just felt so wrong. Why did it feel wrong? She was confused, and angry. Angry with herself for feeling that way. She tried to suppress that ridiculous feeling of pain that every movement of his hand that ran slowly up and down her back evoked. She hated herself. But it hurt. It just hurt. Her teeth bit into her lip without her even noticing it, until she felt something dripping down her chin. Tears? But she tried so hard not to cry, so how...

Will gently pulled away, to look at her with a smile, but then his face contorted. "Elizabeth", he gasped, terrified.

She looked at him with absent-minded confusion, until she noticed that the handkerchief that he hurriedly produced out of his pocket, and pressed against her mouth was soaked... with blood.

"I'm sorry, I must... bit my lip", she said in a quiet, muffled tone of voice.

"It's all right." Will smiled reassuringly, wiping her chin. "Let's just go from here", he said with slight annoyance, wishing to leave the _Pearl _as fast as possible.

Under the handkerchief, Elizabeth secretly bit her lip once again.

She could let herself bleed, but she could not let herself scream.

* * *

Jack rushed to his cabin only to find it empty. What did he expect? After leaving her alone without a single word. Why did he even get upset over such an innocent remark. She had not really said anything... 

He ran up the stairs onto the deck, and looked around. The _Flying Dutchman _was still there, near the _Pearl_, and it, ironically enough, calm him down if only slightly. At least-

He stopped in his tracks, stupefied. There she was. There she was... in _not_ his arms. He stared at the scene for a moment, almost feeling his blood freezing in his veins. It was as if he woke up from a dream, and the reality seemed even harsher than before. Harsher and less comprehensible. Only it was not a dream, that dream... It was the reality, self-made, fate-given, luck-owned, but the reality, nonetheless. And although now fate decided to change the course, it was his ship of life, and he was the captain, and it was his will and wish to follow or reject said course.

And so, he intended to reject it. There was a horizon to be reached, and he was not going to reach it alone. Now that he loved her... Now that she loved him... She had said she loved him...

_Stop rambling an' just go there before he'll try to do something yet more stupid, and then ye'll have to kill 'im, which is impossible, so it's probably not a good idea..._

Before he approached, the embrace already broke, and now Will was pressing a piece of cloth against Elizabeth's mouth.

"What's going on here?", asked Jack in a perhaps slightly too hostile tone of voice.

Elizabeth jumped up, and her eyes widened when she saw him. She took the handkerchief from Will, and kept it pressed to her mouth herself, staring at Jack with a mixture of certain astonishment, and uncertain relief.

"Nothing that demands your presence", replied Will sternly, looking at Jack intently.

"I just bit my lip", said Elizabeth in a muffled voice.

Will looked at her, as she stared at Jack with that strange expression in her eyes... Jack also looked at Elizabeth rather strangely. Will looked from Elizabeth to Jack with a frown on his face, unaware of all those mute 'I'm sorrys', and 'forgive mes' which silently flew across the sea-permeated air between them.

Elizabeth wiped her mouth once last time, and folded the handkerchief, and Will had a brief impression that as she was staring at the handkerchief while she was folding it, a ghost of a smile crept onto her lips, and stayed there in the shadow cast upon her features by the locks of her hair that fell loosely over her face, suddenly hiding her profile from him.

He was slightly surprised, and maybe even disappointed that she did not look at Jack with disgust, or anger, or did not turn around with indignation when he came.

Elizabeth pushed her hair away from her face, and kept smoothing already folded handkerchief, thinking of how strangely peaceful her mind was at the moment, as if Jack's approach brushed all the negative feelings away at an instant. And he came... After all... Maybe he was not mad at her aft-

Her features suddenly hardened as she realized what she was thinking. Mad at her! It was her who should be mad at him! She thought to herself angrily. It was all his fault. Bloody pirate. Bloody liar. He had made a joke out of her. How entertaining it must have been for the entire crew, when she... when they... Unless he was bluffing. Well, there was still a chance that he was bluffing. If she could only remember... But there was something in his behaviour, something in the way he had hold her, in the way... he had kissed her that was different, nigh arrogant, as if she had belonged with him.

Belonged with him... She shivered involuntarily at the thought, and then gritted her teeth in annoyance. The idea of belonging with him appealed to her intolerably strongly. And it gave her shivers. Annoying, half-burning-hot, half-icy-cold shivers. She thought back to that last kiss, and it made her feel giddy. _What have you done to me?_ She thought, finding herself on the verge of tears once again.

"...England." The word shook her out of her reverie, as she noticed that she must have ceased to pay any attention to her surroundings.

Jack was looking at Will grimly, and Will did not look too cheerful either.

"What about England?" Elizabeth looked at Will questioningly.

Jack narrowed his eyes. It was not a moment to be wasted. And a good opportunity to actually practice some truth-telling too (although the latter was a rather forced justification).

"Well." Jack cleared his throat, cutting Will off, before he even started answering. "He wants to sail ye back to England, luv, since I", Jack hesitated, "what was that?", he put a finger to his chin, squinting thoughtfully. "Ah!", he exclaimed happily, 'remembering' "Since I'm apparently a kind of person who takes advantage of ill people, and therefore me ship's not the one to be trusted", he smirked. Will rolled his eyes. Elizabeth stared at Jack intently. "What's more", he continued, sounding as irritatingly, and as amusingly as usual, although on the back of his mind there was nothing but trepidation. "That, dare I say, false assumption leads him to considering abandoning, otherwise giving up the hope of finding a certain Fountain of Youth", he narrowed his eyes, glancing at Elizabeth who wrinkled her forehead, glancing at Will, who glanced at Jack giving him a clearly annoyed look, "which might, actually take that terrible curse off his terribly cursed shoulders." Elizabeth wanted to say something, but Jack continued. "And since we began to be so good at speaking other people's truths for them", he smirked with a glimpse of seriousness in his eyes, looking at Will steadily. "I thought I may as well say that part of the truth in retal-", he smacked his lips, and grimaced. Elizabeth darted her eyes to the floor. "That is, in _appreciation_ of telling mine, aye?", he flashed his usual smile at a very non-smiling Will.

"What's that story with the Fountain of Youth?", asked Elizabeth, looking at Will with curiosity, focusing on exactly that part which Jack hoped she would focus on.

Jack looked around disinterestedly, ignoring Will's intense glare.

"I think we can discuss it on our ship", said Will stiffly, still looking at Jack with silent fury. He gently, but decidedly took Elizabeth by the hand, and walked away.

Jack narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He waited, half-consciously expecting her to turn around. But she did not turn around.

And he did not even know how much she struggled not to turn around...

Jack stood watching them getting on board the _Flying Dutchman_. And even though he knew that they were not going to sail away now, he could not fight the nagging pain that coursed through his body, leaving his tormented mind in chaotic despair, and his racing heart on envious, angry fire.


	42. Chapter 42

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC. I own the draught flag. (Whatever that is...)

**Chapter 42**

With every step she took Elizabeth felt cold gradually overtaking her body, as if she was stepping into icy nothingness, and she half-expected that at some point there will be no more floorboard left, and then she would just fall... Where? She did not know. Maybe into the ocean. Maybe if she fell into the ocean the time would turn back, and-

"Elizabeth?" Will's voice sounded strangely distant, as if it came from another world. The world that no longer existed. Yet, it was the world she was bound to live in. Forever.

She looked at him, and smiled, and he smiled back, trying not to think of that ridiculous remark that Barbossa had made, which, for some reason kept haunting him.

And there was also something about her smile... Something that he had seen before...

"We didn't even really", he started in a low voice, lifting his hand to her face, "say a proper hello", he smiled, but before his hand touched her cheek, she spun around as if playfully.

"It looks quite impressing", she said with that smile, that seemed to him strangely familiar, looking around the deck of the _Flying Dutchman _with great interest.

"Yes", answered Will laconically, watching her as she walked around the deck, curiously examining the rail, the sails, the masts. Even the floorboard. Everything but him.

She did not know what to do. She could not put herself together. She felt guilty knowing that she should behave differently towards him, that she should express some kind of joy, some kind of enthusiasm. That he surely expected something more of her after not seeing her for almost half a year, and now that they met so unexpectedly, she should be overjoyed. She should embrace him, and kiss him. She should... But she couldn't.

"It's been half a year", said Will, approaching her, as she stood by the rail, nervously brushing her hand against it.

She looked up at him, smiled faintly, and nodded. "I know", she said quietly, looking away, the past falling over her like a dark shadow, and she was suddenly back in that dark room, in that dark house, trying to fall asleep, trying to break through all those terrible memories of blood, and death, just trying to sleep, trying to separate herself from all her sins, and from the sins of others, but the sleep was not coming, the sleep was not rescuing her from those nights of tormenting sleeplessness. And she was reduced and condemned to lying in humid darkness, in cold silence, in hot tears streaming from her eyes onto the pillows.

"I missed you, Elizabeth. I missed you so much", said Will, looking at her lovingly, and it scared her how hard it was for her not to walk away from him once again, but she knew that she could not keep doing that. She could not keep running away from him. There was no point in running away... There was nowhere to run...

He leaned towards her...

"What is that story with the Fountain of Youth all about?", she asked so suddenly, and so vigorously, that Will almost jumped up at the sound of her voice.

She felt a twinge of guilt at the look of faint, slightly baffled disappointment in his eyes. But she just could not let him kiss her right now. It was almost beyond her, that strange trepidation at the thought... It angered her. It angered her, but she could not do anything about it at the moment.

Will sighed, and rested his elbows on the rail, looking out at the sea. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, looking at him intently. She leaned against the rail, supporting her twisted arm with her other hand. As she nigh unconsciously ran her fingers along the bandage, she suddenly felt _his _fingers brushing across her skin. She darted her eyes to her arm, half-expecting to see _his _hand there... It felt so real... But, obviously, there was nothing. Only the bandage that _he _had tied around her arm. Her eyes involuntarily flew to the ring, but she quickly averted her eyes, and looked back at Will, who stared pensively into the distance. She wondered briefly what could have happened to her wedding ring...

"My father found a tale saying that the water from the Fountain of Youth can lift any curse", he said in a strangely unenthusiastic tone of voice. "So he decided that we should try-"

"That's wonderful!", exclaimed Elizabeth, her eyes lighting up with sincere joy. She put her hand over Will's on the rail. He looked at her, and smiled.

"You think so?", he asked teasingly, studying her face with admiration, his memories and dreams of her enveloping him now as reality. Was it really happening? Was she really here? And for the first time he really felt that he wanted to find the Fountain; for the first time he actually believed that it was possible to find it, and change that fate. "I... didn't know whether to tell you about it, because... false hope is worse than no hope at all... And if it won't-"

"Shhh", cut in Elizabeth with a smile. "Don't say that. Don't think that. It will be all right, I'm sure."

He looked at her happily. "I missed you", he whispered thoughtfully.

Elizabeth smiled again, and tried to ignore the feeling of irritation that his repeated confession evoked. "Tell me what you have been doing for all this time", she said in a most cheerful tone she could muster, taking a few steps away from him.

"I've already told you", said Will with a smile, following her. "I've been missing you, Mrs. T-", he reached for her hand, and spun her around, pulling her towards him, but his smile faded at the look in her eyes... Fear. She looked scared. Scared of what?

She smiled, apparently to intuitively conceal that look in her eyes, but it did not help much. Worse still, it suddenly dawned on him why did that smile seemed _strangely_ familiar to him. He had seen her smile like that. He had seen her smile like that talking to people in Port Royal, talking to strangers... And she had also smiled like that at... James Norrington.

* * *

"I must be dreamin'!", exclaimed Barbossa in a husky tone of voice, slowly coming over to the helm. "Unless the parrot's taken a human form", he added, squinting smilingly. 

"In which case ye'd finally have somebody as bright as ye to talk to", retorted Jack stiffly, without turning his head to look at him.

Barbossa chuckled darkly. "A fine mood, ye're in, I see", said Barbossa, walking in front of the helm. "And the reason would be?", he paused, not really waiting for an answer. "Oh, that's right. Welcome back to the reality", he said sneeringly, taking a look at the _Flying Dutchman. _Jack said nothing. Barbossa looked back at him, and after a moment of silence added in a low tone of voice. "Although the reality is always a subject to change."

Jack rolled his eyes, and sighed. "I've a very insupportable impression that we were already having this conversation before", he said tiredly. "It ended with ye scrubbing the deck, if I remember correctly."

"The situation has changed", said Barbossa, narrowing his eyes. "Now the knowledge that I need is within arm's reach, an' can be easily grabbed."

"Go grab it, then", Jack nonchalantly waved his hand at him. "Good luck to ye. I can even give ye a pistol with one shot. Or two shots", he corrected himself quickly. "Know me good heart", he smirked.

"Ye see, Jack", Barbossa came closer to him. "Ye still don't see what's lay beneath my proposition", he said wrinkling his forehead, and staring at Jack with solemn intensity.

Jack slightly tilted back his head. "Something ugly, t'be sure", he said disgustedly.

"My well-being", answered Barbossa in a low voice.

"I knew it", nodded Jack with a grimace. "Is this supposed to sound tempting to me?", he asked doubtfully.

"And yer well-being", added Barbossa with a half-smile.

"That's more interesting. But I still fail to see the connection", replied Jack tapping him on the shoulder, and motioning him to move aside. "Ye're blocking the view."

Barbossa's mouth twitched in annoyance, but he restrained himself from displaying any signs of irritation. "Ye see, Jack", he continued as calmly as ever. "What's use of being immortal, if I won't have a ship t'captain-"

"Ye can build yerself a boat. Ye'll have plenty of time, ye know", offered Jack helpfully, with a brief smile.

" ...unless ye want me to steal the _Pearl_ from ye again", Barbossa narrowed his eyes, ignoring Jack's latest comment.

"Steal?", Jack looked at him with exaggerated astonishment. "Ye know, there still may be a hope for ye since ye began calling yer deeds their proper names-"

"All it takes", cut in Barbossa in a slightly impatient tone of voice, "is to ask yer beloved-not-yer-wife 'bout somethin' that she now must certainly remember."

"Go ask her yerself. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to tell ye." Jack took off his hat, examined it for a moment, and then put it back on.

Barbossa grinned. "Aye, only that then I'm afraid I'll have to also mention to her that ye gave me a certain key."

Jack darted his eyes to Barbossa. "I did not give ye the key", he said in a low, but firm tone of voice, and averted his eyes, looking back towards the horizon.

"Ye can tell 'er that. I'm sure she won't find _any_ reason _not_ t'believe _ye_", observed Barbossa with a sneer.

Jack looked at him, and said tiredly with a forced smirk. "Off ye go."

Barbossa knitted his eyebrows, and looked at Jack, a sneer still plastered onto his lips.

"Off ye go, Hector", repeated Jack more resolutely, and yet more exasperatedly.

"Aye", said Barbossa with a snarl. "But next time we'll be havin' _this_ conversation, ye'll be the one startin' it. Be sure of that", he smiled darkly, and slowly went away.

Jack looked up at the sky, and sighed.

* * *

"You must not even think about taking me anywhere now!" exclaimed Elizabeth with absolute certainty, and even a trace of fear in her voice. "We have to find the Fountain of Youth! That's the most important thing!" 

Will looked at her concernedly, not knowing what to do. He wanted her to stay... Just how much he wanted her to stay!... And he wanted find the Fountain. However...

"You don't understand, Elizabeth", he said cautiously. "It may be dangerous. We don't know what to expect. What's more-"

"Will, I don't care if it's dangerous! I actual-", she broke off.

_She'd actually like that..., _flashed across Will's mind, but he did not say it aloud. Neither encouraged her to say it.

Elizabeth pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "It just doesn't matter", she said at last, in a calmer tone of voice, giving him a small smile; _that _smile (or was he just oversensitive?)

"The _Dutchman _cannot sail on the surface all the time", Will said with some effort, and with a glimpse of grim hesitation in his eyes. "If you were to stay, then-"

"Then what?", inquired Elizabeth impatiently. He looked at her. Apparently, she was determined to stay. _To find the Fountain. _He told himself. _To lift the curse. For me. For us... For us._

"Then you would have spend the time I had to take the ship under water... somewhere else", said Will sullenly, his voice slightly faltering towards the end of the sentence.

"You mean I would have to stay a part of the time on the _Black Pearl_", offered Elizabeth in a low, blank tone of voice.

Will looked at her thoughtfully, and nodded. "Yes", he said, looking at her searchingly. But her face was well-nigh expressionless.

"Well, if that's the only way...", she trailed off, unable to speak without being able to hear her own voice. And she could not hear her voice, as it was lost in, and muffled by the furious beating of her heart resounding in her ears.

She did her best to look miserable. She felt like a traitor, even though she tried to convince herself that she was doing no wrong. Was it really that terrible that she just felt a faint, and insignificant twinge of bliss at the thought that-

_Of course it was terrible!..._

"I don't think that would be a good idea", muttered Will, taking her hand in his, and caressing it as if she was a little child to whom he was explaining something apparently obvious that the child did not understand.

"Why?", asked Elizabeth with sincere curiosity, looking at Will with her eyes wide open.

He blinked, finding himself all of a sudden at a loss for a good answer. "Because I don't trust Jack... anymore", he said at last, his eyes turning cold for a brief moment. "Because he did not tell you the truth. And I don't know what his intentions exactly were-"

"But it was the doctor who advised him not to tell me", cut in Elizabeth, almost stunned by her own words which sounded as if they were spoken by someone else.

Will looked at her with confusion. "How do you know?"

"I remember", Elizabeth smiled simply, growing more and more surprised by her own behaviour.

"You remember what's happened _after_ that accident?", asked Will doubtfully, baffled.

"Partly", she replied, looking him straight in the eyes.

_When did you learn to lie like that?! _She heard her own scolding voice inside her head._ Oh. That's right. You've been learning from the best._

She was not quite sure why she was lying to him like that right now. And what for? It was as if the words were just saying themselves. She looked at Will with expectant intensity, suddenly realizing how ridiculous her explanation was, because even if the doctor would have really said that to Jack, she would not have been possibly able to hear it...

But Will apparently did not notice the inconsistency.

"Well, I guess if you really think that-", he started tiredly, but Elizabeth cut him off by throwing her arms, or rather her one healthy arm around his neck, and planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Of course! It'll be all right!", she pulled away, before he closed his arms around her to tighten the embrace. "So-", she started with a radiant smile, but stopped abruptly in mid-sentence.

"So?", Will looked at her with loving smile, pushing all the grim thoughts away, and just enjoying her presence, the sound of her voice, the look on her face, and the thought that he will be seeing her now every day.

Elizabeth smiled embarrassedly. "So... so... so... what have you been doing for all this time?", she repeated her earlier question rather stupidly, but there was really nothing that came to her mind at the moment to rescue her from the trouble of finishing that particular sentence, which, to her utter horror, in her original version sounded: So when are you going to submerge?

Will, for the first time in a long time laughed, and taking her by the hand began answering her question.

She kept smiling, and nodding, while many thoughts raced across her mind, when she inwardly frowned with ardent irritation, her mind shaking with anger. _What have you done what the hell have you done to me I will never never never forgive you bloody pirate damn you Jack Sparrow oh I'm sorry it's Captain isn't it oh I'll give you a captain treatment you can be sure of that bloody despicable liar what have you done what have you done what have I-_

"So when are you going to submerge now?", she blurted out all of a sudden, unable to hold on any longer.

Will blinked, and looked at her, slightly surprised, as she just cut him off with that question while he was telling her about his duties-

"Captain!" Will and Elizabeth both turned around.

"What is it?", asked Will.

"The draught flag is almost dry", a crew member stated, pointing to one of the masts.

Elizabeth looked up at the flag billowing in the wind high above.

Will thanked the sailor, and sighed. "I'm afraid I have to go down right now", he said, looking at Elizabeth with sad eyes.

Elizabeth smiled, trying to put as much sadness into her smile as she saw in Will's eyes. And she felt disgusted with herself, but there was nothing she could do to fight that involuntary, overwhelming, intolerably thrilling feeling of joy at the prospect of going back on the _Black Pearl_.


	43. Chapter 43

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 43**

Jack stood at the helm with his unseeing eyes set on the horizon. He tried to think about... Actually he could not even think about what he could think about if he could think about anything else but what he was thinking about currently. And all he could think about was what she was thinking about right now. What... she was doing right now.

..._getting on board the Black Pearl_... A voice in his head whispered. Jack sighed, his consciousness not registering the whispers of his observant subconsciousness. _Getting on board the Black Pearl..._ He repeated in his mind mechanically, and all of a sudden the words snapped him back to the reality, as his eyes flew wide open at the sight.

"'Lizbeth", he gasped, leaving the helm, and shouting for somebody, _anybody_, to take over.

Cotton's parrot softly landed on one of the spokes with a flutter of wings. "Man the helm", it screeched to itself (apparently).

* * *

"I will be perfectly fine, Will. Don't worry", said Elizabeth not believing a single word she was saying, but trying to convince Will as well as herself. 

"I will be back as soon as I can", replied Will reassuringly, placing his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders. She stiffened, furious with herself for doing so.

"It's time to go, William", observed Bill Turner quietly.

Will glanced at him, and sighed. He turned to Elizabeth, and leaned down to kiss her...

"And what brings ye back so soon, I wonder?" Jack's voice stopped him before Elizabeth would have been forced to come up with another ridiculous question in order to avoid the kiss. She was grateful for the interruption, but only for a split second, before realizing who caused the interruption, and before the feeling of relief was quickly replaced by the feeling of anger.

Jack glanced Elizabeth. She was staring at her shoes. She was afraid that if she looked at him, she would just threw herself into his arms, and, needless to say, it was not an option to be taken into consideration _ever_, and under any circumstances. Especially now.

"We have to take the _Dutchman _down for some time", explained Bill Turner, walking over.

"Ah." Jack smiled unenthusiastically.

Elizabeth shot him a curious look.

"So?", he asked innocently, looking from Bill to Will and Elizabeth with an apparently puzzled expression on his face.

Will turned from Elizabeth, and faced Jack. "So Elizabeth have to stay here while we will be under water", said Will with false patience, knowing very well that Jack must be well aware of that fact, and therefore irritated by his pretended unawareness.

"I don't think I've any free storage space available", said Jack thoughtfully with a grimace, after a moment of consideration.

Elizabeth eyes widened in indignation. "Storage space?!" She exclaimed, walking in front of Will, and standing before Jack, glaring at him.

Will looked at Elizabeth intently. There was something in the way she reacted to all those Jack's ridiculous, annoying remarks that worried him. And he was not sure what worried him more: seeing her upset, and irritated, or rather seeing that strange fire in her eyes which those meaningless arguments always managed to ignite somehow...

Jack tilted back his head. "Don't feel offended, luv. All I'm saying is that it's rather tiring having people coming and going all the time", Jack waved his hand back and forth, "causing commotions. I'd prefer me crew members to remain in their stations, and don't wander around purposelessly", he explained matter-of-factly. "And if somebody is not me crew member, then I can hardly think of a purpose for him, or her, for that matter, therefore-"

"I think you are forgetting one small detail", cut in Elizabeth through her gritted teeth, taking one small step backwards, suddenly feeling uncomfortable standing so close to him.

"And that'd be, dearie?" Jack narrowed his eyes interestedly. The one small step not escaping his notice.

Will sighed, annoyed by the discussion, annoyed by Jack annoying Elizabeth. He wanted to broke in, but Elizabeth was faster.

"Well that'd be that I am your _King_, _Captain_ Sparrow. And that means that it's _Your Majesty_ to you", snapped Elizabeth in an irritated, and loud tone of voice, storming off, without waiting for an answer, or saying a proper goodbye to Will, for that matter.

"And I thought it couldn't get much worse than 'it's Miss Swann'", muttered Jack with a grimace of wonder.

Bill Turner smiled to himself sadly.

Will shot Jack a sharp look. "It's Mrs. Turner", he said in a low, but firm tone of voice, and walked past Jack, following Elizabeth.

Jack glanced after him blankly.

"He asked me to stay on the _Pearl_", said Bill Turner with not a very happy expression on his face.

"Yer always welcome aboard", replied Jack with a smile.

Bill Turner shook his head, snorting slightly. "Jack, ye know why he asked me that", he said resignedly.

"To keep a watchful eye on me, I imagine", said Jack with a smirk. "Not the most enviable position to be put in", he added seriously after a pause.

Bill looked at him intently. "I was afraid you might say that", he said with a sigh.

* * *

Elizabeth headed below deck. On her way, she met Mr. Gibbs, whom she asked whether she had a cabin assigned "on this bloody ship." Gibbs suppressed a chuckle, cleared his throat, and offered to walk Elizabeth to the cabin in which she was staying since they had left Tortuga. When they reached the door, Elizabeth thanked him, and walked in, determined to stay there until Will would be back. That she considered to be a very mature and smart move on her side. For a moment there she really believed that it might work. 

She looked around the cabin disinterestedly, but then noticed many strange things around her. There was a beautiful dress threw over a chair, a silky nightgown, some fancy hair-pins, and when she opened a wardrobe, and the trunks that stood by the wall, she found more and more clothes, and other items, and she was positively sure that none of it belonged to her, and that none of it she has seen before.

She stood dumbfounded staring at a silver brush, when a knock on the door shook her out of her thoughts.

She sighed, and went to open the door with a grimace, almost surprised at the sight of Will. And then she remembered that she did not even say goodbye to him. And she shuddered. Inwardly. Scolding herself.

"Will", she smiled.

"I must go, I just wanted", he paused, looking at her worriedly. "Are you sure you want to stay here, Elizabeth? If-"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure", she broke in, smiling reassuringly, nervously clutching the door knob, as she still held onto it."

"All right", Will nodded reluctantly, looking at the floor, and then he lifted his eyes, and gazed at her with tender intensity. "I love you", he said simply under his breath.

She was about to give him that obvious, most natural, simple answer to the silent question that his statement contained, when something flashed through her mind...

"_Promise me, 'Lizbeth..."_

"_Anything"_

"_Promise me... you won't forget... that I love you..."_

"Elizabeth?" Will looked at her with concern, as she stood staring strangely into the distance. She shivered, and looked at him absently. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, I'm sorry, I just... I just... remembered something... I think...", she said thoughtfully in a whisper.

Will smiled. "What did you remember?" , he asked, taking her hand in his.

"William", Bill Turner appeared in the corridor. "I'm afraid-"

"Yes, I know", said Will hurriedly, turning to his father. "You will have to tell me later", he said, stroking Elizabeth's hair with a smile. "Don't forget", he said, trying to sound amused, but failing somehow.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. Will looked at her for a moment, and then smiled remembering something. He reached to his pocket, and took the wedding ring out of it. Elizabeth's face twitched. Will took her hand, and slid the ring on her finger. Elizabeth was both too taken off guard by the suddenness of the gesture, and also too preoccupied with watching Will's face, and his reaction to the green ring which was still wrapped around her thumb of the same hand, to protest. But why would she protest? Moreover, she could not protest, could she? She could not, and she should not. And she did not. She only smiled. Will smiled back at her, clearly ignoring the green ring. _He must have seen it before... But... had he seen it before? And... did he recognize it?..._

She was about to ask him why did he had her ring, when he, taking her be surprise, embraced her, and kissed her on the mouth. She clenched her fists so hard that she could almost hear her knuckles breaking. And the reason for this was only partly due to the stinging pain caused by the fact that her freshly cut lip hurt when he touched it with his mouth.

"I will be back soon", he said in a hurried whisper, and quickly walked away.

She stood motionlessly, and accompanied him with her eyes until he disappeared up the stairs, followed by his father. And then she also noticed Jack standing by the bottom of the stairs. When she met his gaze, he averted his eyes, turned around, and walked up the stairs. Did he see...?... Elizabeth snorted to herself. What did it matter? She did not care. She did not care what he saw, and what he thought. Maybe it was even better that way, if he saw...

She slowly closed the door, rested her head against it, and cried; cried with helpless desperation over the past, and over the future. Neither of them she seemed to have anymore. And neither of them was going to remain unharmed.

* * *

Trying to kill an immortal person for kissing his own wife could not have probably been the daftest thing that he has done in his life. However, he did not do it. Instead, he waited patiently until the _Flying Dutchman _vanished under the water surface, and then stormed off below, going straight to... his cabin. 

Jack slammed the Captain's Quarters door shut (disregarding the danger of breaking his supposedly favorite door altogether, apparently), threw his hat across the room (eyeing it thoughtfully when it landed on the floor, but not doing anything about it), and sat at his desk, burying his head in his hands.

How did it come to this? When did come to this? He was not supposed to give a damn. He has never been - how to call it? - possessive about women. As long as they liked him, they could like other people as well. And even if they did not like him (which he could not remember to ever be the case, but just if), he could not care less. And now he felt as if he was going to die, because of one kiss. It might be even funny, if it was not so grimly frustrating, that kisses seemed to always succeed in killing him, somehow, as of late...

* * *

Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing her eyes. They stung from crying, and although she knew better than irritate her eyes even more by rubbing them, she still rubbed them out of nervousness, and frustration. 

She did not want to feel like that towards Will. She _could not_ feel like that towards him... There was no point... And she should not have lied to him... Why had she lied to him? He did not deserve it... But she had wanted to go back on the _Black Pearl_. Even if it only meant being little closer- She hit the side of the bed with her fists, and closed her eyes, feeling new tears about to escape from under her eyelids.

She should stop. She should stop thinking that. Why could not she just stop thinking about that? Why could not she just stop thinking...

"_He'll be in your charge. Take care of him."_

Her father's words flew to her with the hurriedness, and coldness of a mountain creek. Even though they were not meant to mean anything... They were just meant to attract her attention, so she would not get scared by watching that burning ship, and listening to sailors' conversations concerning it...

Elizabeth buried her head in her hands. Her father. One more victim. _Her _victim. He died, because of her. It was her fault. She had sealed his fate on that very day when she had taken the medallion from Will... She had killed him on that day. She had killed James Norrington on that day. She had killed... Jack too... And Will. She was killing Will right now. And she was killing herself right now as well.

She moaned, and burst out crying, unable to control herself, and keep her sobs quiet. She did not even hear the knocking on the door (if there was any knocking), and neither did she hear the door being open.

Jack peered inside, half-expecting Elizabeth to start throwing various objects at him as soon as he entered, but instead he saw her shaking from crying, her face hidden in her hands.

"Lizzie", he whispered almost inaudibly, forgetting at an instant all about his well-planned bitter-sharp comments with which he came here. He bent down over her, and gently took her head in his hands.

Her eyes widened in astonishment. She was surprised to see him. She thought he was mad at her... No. _She_ was mad at him. Wasn't she?... She could not remember... She could no longer remember whose turn it was to be guilty, to be sorry, to be mad... And to admit none of it, of course.

Pirates.

"Lizzie", he repeated, squatting down in front of her, still holding her head in his hands, and looking at her worriedly.

She wanted to push him away, to brush his hands off her face, but... it felt so safe, so comforting, so blissful to feel his skin against hers, to feel his touch, to look into the liberating darkness of his entrapping eyes.

And yet she wanted to shout at him, she wanted to accuse him of making her feel like this, of making her _not _feel like this towards Will, of lying to Will. Because it was _his_ fault that she lied to Will. It was all his fault...

But he looked at her, and began wiping her tears with his thumbs, still cupping her face, and looking at her attentively, and his hands were warm, and they were making her shiver, and his eyes were ablaze with something strange that she has never noticed before, that she would have never believed in before... And so instead of doing something reasonable, like pushing him away, slapping him, and storming off the cabin, she threw herself into his arms, knocking him over on the floor, and onto his back, pressing her lips against his, and imprinting soft, rushed kisses on his coarse, sea-sodden lips.

Taken off guard, Jack needed a moment to realize what was happening. But it was only a very short moment that he needed to recover from surprise. He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth tightly, and rolled her over onto her back, catching her lips in between his, and turning her ethereal kisses into a deep, infinite, fiery kiss. She wrapped her hands around his neck, ignoring her twisted arm, ignoring the dull pain in her lip, ignoring whatever this kiss was destroying, ignoring whatever danger this kiss was dragging her into.

She opened her eyes, puzzled, when Jack pulled away all of a sudden, and she saw his worried facial expression, when he delicately brushed his fingertips across her lower lip, stopping right before where the cut was. Elizabeth smiled faintly. Jack wrinkled his forehead.

"Does it hurt?", he asked so quietly that she could barely hear him.

"Yes", she whispered with a glimpse of amusement in her eyes. "'Cause you stopped kissing it better", she added under her breath, cupping the side of his face with her hand.

He looked into her eyes seriously at first, but then his face brightened. "I shall continue then", he said with a sly smile.

"I thought I will-", started Gibbs cheerfully, walking into the cabin with a pitcher of drinking water, and almost tripping over...

His eyes widened in complete astonishment at the sight of Jack and Elizabeth laying together on the floor, cuddled up against each other tightly.

Elizabeth looked over Jack's shoulder, and met Gibbs' dumbfounded gaze, which all of a sudden, in one moment brought her back to the reality. She froze, and looked at Jack, and then, after a brief moment of consideration she did the only decent thing that came to her mind: she slapped him. And then pushed him away, jumped up to her feet, and stormed off the cabin as fast as she could.

Jack sat upright on the floor with a very unhappy expression on his face, and rubbed his cheek. Then he darted his eyes to Gibbs, and looked at him darkly. Gibbs smiled apologetically, but his smile faded, when Jack staggered to his feet, and came over to him. He looked at the pitcher that Gibbs held in his hands, and then looked at Gibbs.

"Water", said Jack grimly.

"Aye, water", nodded Gibbs with a hesitant smile.

"And what is water Master Gibbs?", asked Jack narrowing his eyes.

Gibbs blinked, confused. "Water is... water", he answered without much conviction, not sure where this conversation was going.

"No", replied Jack, looking at him sternly. Gibbs grimaced uncomfortably. "From now on, water, Master Gibbs, is the only drink ye're allowed to drink on this ship", said Jack firmly, and then walked out of the cabin, leaving Gibbs with a very unhappy, and deeply pained expression on his face.


	44. Chapter 44

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 44**

Elizabeth ran up the stairs, and got on the upper deck sighing with relief, and gasping for air. She tried to convince herself that her heartbeat was quickened only because she had been running, and that she was nearly breathless for the same reason.

She leaned against the rail, knowing perfectly well that it was all not true. She stamped her foot in anger, and covered her face with her palms, trying to regain her composure. She did not want Will's father to see her like that. She did not want him to start suspecting something.

It crossed her mind that the vicious circle of keeping up appearances, in which she was always entrapped, first in England yet, and then later in Port Royal, now was encircling her again... And for a short time she had hoped that she had broken free, that she had freed herself from the necessity to care for the world's opinion, and judgement. And now she was forced to pretend again... Pretend?... To lie... again, in a way. If it could be called lying... But she could not just tell Will how she felt. She could not tell him that she felt lost, and confused... What an idea!... Although... she thought that if Will was Jack, he could actually understand...

If Will was Jack?! She stamped her foot again in fury.

She uncovered her face, and the sunlight hit her sight with full force. So bright. So beautiful. So perfect a day. So many days... And she had spent so many days just sitting, and thinking, and counting... And she could have never counted enough. The number was never becoming insignificant...

But she should not think of it now. Now there was a chance for that curse to be lifted, so she should not think about _that_ life, about being so alone that she had begun doubting her own presence... In fact, who would have proved that she had existed if no one was there? Not even for a moment...

She had left Port Royal without regret. There was not one person left with whom she would have wished to talk. Elizabeth snorted to herself bitterly. Not that there was anybody who had wanted to talk to her. Or with her... She was left with no family, no friends, only some weird aura around her, as people refused to consider her as a desirable part of the society, with her rather tarnished reputation, exaggerated gossips concerning her pirate adventures, enigmatic marriage that not many people even believed in, and no prospects for happiness.

And of course she had not care. She did not care... Elizabeth rested her head on her elbows, and looked out at the sea. Those five months she could sum up very simply: solitude, despair, humiliation, and...

"I must say I don't think I deserved that."

...longing...

Elizabeth spun around, surprised.

Jack stood right beside her, the mock-pained expression on his face. Maybe he should not have followed her. But it was exactly one of the mistakes that he had made in the past. He had never followed her... So now he was going to avoid making _that_ mistake again.

"Well, you didn't. I mean you did, but..." She trailed off, averting her eyes.

"You alright, Lizzie?", he asked in a suddenly serious tone of voice, noticing something in her eyes that did not seem right.

"Yes", she answered without thinking, wondering how did he never fail to notice, and adjust his behaviour to her state of mind at a given moment.

"Yes?" Jack raised his eyebrows, taking one more step towards her. He tilted his head to the side. "So why is there _no_ in your eyes?", he asked, smirking faintly.

She darted her eyes to him, his face so close to hers that it almost scared her... But she did not move away.

"There is nothing in my eyes, Jack", she said thoughtfully, contemplating the depth of his dark eyes, which, strangely enough, always ignited light in her heart. "They've seen too much", she said bitterly, in a faltering whisper, holding his gaze for a moment, and then looking away.

He stopped smirking, and looked at her intently, propping her chin with his hand, and forcing her to look back at him.

"Or perhaps they've seen not enough", he said quietly, his eyes sparkling in the sunlight. She has never knew the eyes can glitter like that in the sun.

"And what is there to be seen yet?", she asked with a snort, finding herself unable to tear her eyes off him, but trying not to think about it. "Despair? Deception? Cruelty? Treachery? Blood? Death?"

She wanted to continue, but he silenced her by putting a finger across her lips. "You're looking at the wrong stars, 'Lizbeth", he whispered with a small smile, leaning into her, his hand travelling through her hair until it rested on the back of her head, his fingers entangled in her "gold like gold" (he smirked remembering his chaotic thoughts in Tortuga) hair. And it struck him that she just stared at him, studying his face with curious intensity, as if she was looking for something there...

He brushed his lips against hers, wrapping his arm around her waist. She trembled, subconsciously leaning towards his lips which just left hers.

"Why do you want me to believe in this?", she asked with her eyes still closed.

"In what?", he muttered absently, kissing her softly on the lips.

"That you feel something for me", she said quietly.

Jack opened his eyes, and Elizabeth opened hers. She was serious.

And all of a sudden it angered him. It angered him that she questioned... that she did not believe... that she doubted... that she did not take into consideration... He loosened his embrace, and she felt as if she was going to fall without his arms around her. But she managed not to.

"You've already guessed it", he said with a strange, sardonic expression on his face.

She gave him a sadly puzzled look.

"Revenge, of course. What else?", he smirked, but his eyes remained cold. He turned around, and started to walk away, angry with himself more than with her. He should not have thought that she...

Elizabeth stood there for a moment in daze, but quickly recovered.

"Jack!", she caught up with him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

"I could ask you the same question", he said sharply, turning around to face her.

Elizabeth's face twitched. She let go of his arm. "I didn't- I don't know what I did, but-"

"When?" Jack narrowed his eyes interestedly. "When did you not know?" Elizabeth looked at him hesitantly. "Now? A few minutes ago? In the morning?" She gasped with pretended impatience, holding back tears, and averting her eyes. "Or _then_?" He added, and regretted immediately. But what was said was said.

She shifted her eyes to him. "I know very well what I had done", she said firmly, clenching her fists, and trying to keep her voice from shaking. "What I don't know is what you have done to me!", she exclaimed, glaring at him.

"Ah." His mouth twitched to a dark half-smile. "So now we're back to my despicable self", he narrowed his eyes. "Very well. Although let me tell you that you rather enjoyed everything I was doing to you." Elizabeth stared at him, speechless from astonishment, taken aback by his words as much as by the venomous tone of his voice. "Of course it was only because you did not remember yer displaced one and only irreplaceable beloved, wasn't it? But you can't blame a filthy pirate for taking advantage of a beautiful lass. The sea is a very lonely place, 'Lizbeth."

She slapped him with her healthy hand so hard that his head turned to the side violently. He did not move, looking into the direction in which his head had been turned.

"How dare you", she spat. "I don't believe you", she added quietly, after a pause, as if suddenly hit by the realization. "You made it up. You're bluffing! I would never-"

He turned back towards her, grabbing her by the shoulders, and pulling her sharply towards him. "Bad news, darling. You would, and in fact you had. You were mine, and we'd been together whether you like it or not." She writhed in his grasp, but it only made him tighten it, pulling her closer, their lips almost touching. "And I'm guessing it's the latter", he smirked sourly, his eyes wandering around her face with well-concealed sadness, which puzzled her. "But it's hardly comforting, isn't it?", he asked in a husky whisper, looking her deeply in the eyes. "The sense of guilt, that is, the remorse, the regret, the hope of atonement." She froze in his grip, just staring at him in astonishment, trying to recall the feeling of anger, but somehow the only emotion that she could found was sorrow. Sorrow, and... "In fact, nothing is easier than that. Dear William won't even notice. You will go back to him... Oh, I'm sorry. You've never left him, aye?" He narrowed his eyes in a grimace. His hands sliding from her arms up to her neck. He leaned into her, and she gasped, uncertain whether he wanted to strangle her, or kiss her at the moment. But he just continued talking. "So you just have to forget that my dirty hands have ever touched you." He let go of her, taking one step backwards. She almost lost her balance. "Well, funny this is, actually, is it not?", he asked with a surface smile. "You already forgot that, aye? How fortunate. How unavoidable. It's a wonder it has ever even crossed my mind that-"

"That what?", she asked in an angry tone, her eyes searching his face for an answer with strange desperation. She clenched her fists in order not to reach out for him. She waited for an answer.

But he was not going to answer. Was it pride? It could not be. There was no pride left if he could attack her like that, shouting all those nonsensical accusations, which could only mean one thing, so easy to decipher that it was rather naive to think that she will not eventually figure it out. Was it anger, then? Pure rage, because she refused to remember about what had happened? (Refused, because even knowing that something had happened, she would rather hopelessly object to it, rather ignore it, rather twist the meaning of it, than acknowledge it, and try to understand...) Was it at last jealousy? And not only of that kiss (which she did not initiate; in all this madness he still managed to take notice of that), not only of the entire past, of all those moments filled and spoiled by her thoughts revolving around _him_ and _his_ whereabouts; but most of all of that right she had given _him_, of that right to be a natural, obvious, unarguable, unchangeable, integral part of her life. The part that did not demand explanation, or justification, or any other kind of effort.

"You were right", he said instead, instead of all those words that he should have said, that he could not have said to her, to her as she was right now, to her with that wedding ring on her finger. "It was a revenge. And a pleasant one too."

She wanted to slap him again, but he caught her wrist. "Enough of that", he whispered somberly. She grimaced, trying to free her hand. "Not so fine not to be able to escape, after all, aye?"

She looked up at him with coldness that sent shivers up his spine. His fake smirk faded at the sight of tears streaming down her face. She was so quiet that the tears looked almost unreal, as if she was not crying, as if the tears came out of nowhere, having nothing to do with her. He stared at her for a moment. What the hell was he doing?!

"I'm sorry", she whispered almost inaudibly, and he thought that he misunderstood her. "I'm sorry!", she shouted, tearing her hand out of his grasp. He looked at her with anxiety, suddenly regretting every single word he had uttered. "Are you happy now?!", she shouted, sobbing. "I am sorry! I have always been sorry! I have been sorry every minute since then! I have hated myself! I wanted to kill myself! Is this enough?! Is this good enough an apology?! "

He stared at her blankly, except for a permanent grimace plastered to his face, an expression of mixed anger, dismay, and worry. She brought her hands to her head, tugging on her hair, the tears flowing from her eyes down her face, and her neck. And he just wanted to take her into his arms, he just wanted to beg her for forgiveness, but somehow he felt that it would not be enough, that there was no words to express what he had wanted to say, and why he had said, as always, something entirely different; something entirely wrong.

She nervously brushed the tears away from her face with the back of her hand, and came closer to him. "Don't think you can destroy me. You won't destroy me. I won't let you", she said in a faltering whisper through her gritted teeth, trying to keep from crying. She looked at him, and the expression in his eyes frightened her. He looked broken, he looked guilty, she could see that, and she did not want to see that. She wanted to hate him. She wanted him to hate her. She wanted to end it and forget, forget, forget. Even though she did not remember. But she knew. She felt it. And it was senseless, it was wrong, not only because of Will, but because she did not believe in forgiveness, she did not believe in _his _forgiveness, how could he forgive her for sacrificing him, especially for sacrificing him to save Will? And he made it clear. Didn't he make it clear? There was resentment behind his every word. And she understood it. She accepted it. That was why she could not tell him... "I love Will", she said tentatively, although she wanted it to sound strongly, but her voice betrayed her, so she turned around, and wanted to run, before he would begin to question the truthfulness of her statement.

But he did not let her run away from him. He caught her from behind, and spun her around, holding her by the wrists, and glaring at her. She was exhausted. Too exhausted to even glare back. She wondered what he would tell her now. What grudges did he yet hold against her. She did not care. She wanted him to tell her how much he despised her, and end it, and forget...

"I won't say I didn't mean what I said, because even if I didn't mean it I still said it, and you heard it, and it doesn't matter whether I meant it or not", he said gruffly, apparently ignoring her last comment.

She lifted her gaze from the floor to his face, looking at him uncertainly, but listening intently. He looked as angry as before, and his eyes shone, but she was not sure whether it was still only because of the sunlight reflecting in them.

"Whatever I said, if it hurt you, then I didn't want to say it", he said in a harsh tone of voice, the meaning hardly matching his facial expression. He looked at her with a frown on his face, his hands still gripping her wrists, although it crossed her mind that it was not a manifestation of anger, but rather an attempt to stop her from running away. What frightened her was that she did not mind it. She did not mind it at all as long as she could feel his touch on her skin, as long as she could look into his eyes, even if the only look she could receive in return was a glare.

"I don't need you to be sorry, Lizzie", he said with unexpected tenderness, and she suddenly realized that she had missed that name, that she had missed his voice calling her that. "I don't want you to be sorry." She shivered, when he let go of her wrists, and slid his hands under her hair, taking her face in his hands. "And I was glad when you didn't remember that. Because it doesn't matter", he said almost irritably, the harshness in his voice fading, She stared at him wide-eyed, studying his face in wonder. "It really doesn't matter", he repeated in a distinct whisper, shaking her lightly, "but of course this is a very good point in an argument." A ghost of a smile flitted across his lips. Or at least she thought so. He paused, shifting his eyes to the floor, and then looking back at her, his dark gaze enveloping her like fiery mist, and she held his gaze as if it was the matter of survival, as if she would get lost without his eyes guiding her through that hazy labyrinth of her present life. "Let's forget about it", he breathed, looking at her intently, as if he was really asking her to forget, as if he meant it literally, and although because of this it sounded almost like a joke, she nodded, bewildered, and uncertain, but enchanted nevertheless. Enchanted by the look in his eyes, by his touch, by his scent, by the sound of his voice ... "Let's forget it for once and for always", he repeated urgently, resting his forehead against hers.

"All right", she muttered tearfully, awkwardly wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Let's move on, let's get out of that Locker at last", he said with a grimace, with his eyes closed. She looked at his face, at his black eyelids, at his lips speaking the words with exhaustion.

"Can you really forgive me?", she whispered, waiting for his eyes to snap open, but they opened slowly.

"We can't really talk about something we don't remember, can we?", he asked almost amusedly, tilting his head back, and bringing his hand to her face.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Just that one question", she said weakly, tilting her head to the side, and leaning into his touch despite all the warnings resounding in her head.

"On one condition", he said with a slight smirk, caressing the side of her face with the back of his hand.

"What condition?", pouted Elizabeth, the feeling of despair, and sorrow slowly subsiding in direct proportion to the increase of Jack's usual cockiness.

"You will tell me why you came to Tortuga, luv", he said looking at her intensely, brushing his fingertips across her lips.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "All right", she said at last with a trace of an impish smile flickering across her face.

Jack smiled triumphantly, and narrowed his eyes interestedly in anticipation. Elizabeth fluttered her eyelashes, and looked at him expectantly. "But you first", she said coyly.

Jack sighed. "All right", he said, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and pulling her close. She smiled at him that smile that he remembered so well; that smile after their first night together. "I hereby declare that you have been completely, utterly, overtly, incontrovertibly, and indiscriminately forgiven for every act, action, venture, adventure you have ever undertaken, completed, committed, or abandoned in the past, at present, and in the future", recited Jack in a solemn tone of voice. Elizabeth grinned. "Does it satisfy your request, Your Majesty?", he asked with a roguish smile, relieved to see her grinning after that strenuous argument.

"Yes, it does", she answered promptly, still grinning.

"Good. Now I'm all ears", said Jack, smirking.

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow.

_Not good. _Jack's nose twitched. "Lizzie", he wagged his finger at her.

Elizabeth giggled. "Well, Captain Sparrow, I am very sorry to inform you that you have failed to specify the time when you would wish to hear my answer", she said resolutely, slipping out of his embrace.

Jack blinked nervously, running after her. "No, no. It ain't bloody fair, luv", he said irritably, spinning her around, and closing her in an embrace. She smiled, and her smile changed the course of his thoughts, and he suddenly felt that it was _the_ moment to tell her... "Lizzie..."

"There ye are", the voice of Bill Turner came from the stairs. Elizabeth nervously pulled herself out of Jack's embrace. "I thought ye could show us that map, Jack, and we could look at it together, aye?", he approached them with a small, ordinary smile, looking from Jack to Elizabeth with a seemingly blank facial expression.

"Yes! That is an excellent idea!", exclaimed Elizabeth enthusiastically.

"I was 'bout to make the very same proposal", said Jack narrowing his eyes in an artificial smile, wondering briefly just for how long "Bootstrap" Bill Turner might have been standing on those stairs...


	45. Chapter 45

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 45**

"Nothing has changed here", said Bill Turner with a thoughtful smile, walking into the _Black Pearl_'s Captain's Quarters.

"Not that I had much time to introduce significant changes", replied Jack somewhat grimly, closing the door. He looked at Elizabeth intently, but she was apparently determined not to look at him at all. She walked over to his desk, and ran her hand across the map there. _Jack's desk._ It felt strangely familiar. Everything that he has touched felt strangely familiar...

"That's not it, luv", said Jack, taking his coat off, and glancing at Elizabeth over his shoulder.

Elizabeth retracted her hand quickly. "I know that", she snapped, shooting him an annoyed look.

He turned around, and smirked at her.

She squinted, and gasped, and walked away upset, sitting down at the table across "Bootstrap" Bill Turner, who smiled at her warmly. She smiled back, slightly embarrassed, wondering what he might have noticed on the deck, and what did he know, how much did he know about her, about Jack, about _them_.

Them? _"Me and you, you, and I. Us." _Them..._ "Bad news, darling. You were mine." _She smirked to herself.

"Would ye care to explain what ye find so amusing 'bout me map, luv?" Jack's voice shook her out of her thoughts.

Elizabeth looked up. Jack stood by the table with the map in his hand, waving it at her. "Nothing", she pouted, crossing her arms over her chest, thinking about her own thoughts, thinking that she had no reason to smile. What was she smiling at? Was she smiling at the fact that she cheated on Will? That she was unfaithful? Very funny, indeed. She snorted to herself.

"Very amusing that nothing must be", muttered Jack, carefully unfolding the map, and placing it on the table.

Elizabeth glanced at him impatiently. Was he going to irritate her again? Right after shouting at her, and making all those improper remarks? One would think it was enough, and he should feel sorry for making her cry. But apparently he was of different opinion, and instead he wanted to continue arguing with her. And they were not even alone...

...which was good, she told herself firmly. She was going to keep it that way. It was the only way to survive, since she was quite sure she could not handle being with him alone at the moment. _"You were mine. We'd been together whether you like it or not." _It angered her, the way he had said it, with arrogance, and aloofness, but at the same time she could not stop trembling at the very thought. His hands running through her hair, and down her neck, along her arms, brushing across her chest, and his lips on hers, the sweet taste of his kisses filling every fibre of her body...

"Oh God", she gasped aloud.

"Well, it's not _that _complicated, really", objected Jack, pointing to something on the map, looking at her with slight bafflement.

She met his eyes, and froze, realizing that she had said that aloud. She blushed, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning forward, as if she wanted to take a closer look at the map. And it quickly dawned on Jack that her comment was apparently not concerned with sailing maneuvers. He grinned inwardly, keeping straight face for the sake of Bill, who looked sufficiently distressed already.

"So how long will it take to get there?", she asked matter-of-factly, trying to regain her composure, but somehow she could not get that image out of her head. An image... She was not sure whether it was a dream, a figment of her imagination, or perhaps... a memory.

"Where, luv?", asked Jack innocently, with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes.

Elizabeth pursed her lips in annoyance. He knew that she was not paying attention, and now he was just making her look ridiculous _again._

"The Ghost Sea", cut in Bill in a low tone of voice. "I think that's what Elizabeth meant", he said calmly.

Elizabeth smiled at him brightly, and then turned her head to glare at Jack. "Exactly", she said through her gritted teeth.

"Very well", said Jack slumping down in a chair at the head of the table with Elizabeth sitting on his right hand side, and "Bootstrap" on the left side. "We're here", he said putting a mark on the map.

Elizabeth watched intently his bronzed hand with the sparrow tattoo, and the burned-out _P _which was showing from under his white shirt sleeve. There was something transfixing about his hand... about the way he handled the quill pen... about the way his fingers budged when he was writing... Elizabeth closed her eyes with a grimace, gradually becoming more and more annoyed with herself.

"I hardly dare to argue with the King, however, it seems to me that even the royal eyes if closed can hardly see anything", came Jack's slightly amused voice, which made Elizabeth's eyes snap open.

"I am aware of that phenomenon", she answered drily, glancing at Bill Turner, whose eyes were focused on the map.

Jack smiled at her, and she wanted to avert her eyes indignantly, but for some completely incomprehensible reason she found herself smiling back at him. _He has the most irresistible smile I have ever- Elizabeth Swann, stop it right now!_ She scolded herself passionately. _Elizabeth Turner. _A quiet voice in her head corrected. She looked away.

"What will happen when we reach the Ghost Sea? The map ends there...", Bill Turner asked concernedly, running his finger across the edge of the map.

"Ah", Jack winced. "That's the ugly part", he said disgustedly.

Elizabeth and Bill Turner looked up at him questioningly.

"Once we reach the Ghost Sea, we have to find an island-"

"But the map doesn't cover the Ghost Sea", broke in Elizabeth, leaning over the map.

Jack shot her a mockingly stern look. "I'm on my way to clarify that clear lack of clarity here, luv", he said patiently.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, and sighed. _And when he speaks his upper lip curls slightly towards the corner of his mouth, partly covering his lower lip which- _She silently stamped her foot under the table.

"So", Jack cleared his throat, tapping his fingers on the map. "The map endows us with the ever so desirable possibility to reach the Ghost Sea, which, to answer your previously asked and recently not forgotten question, should happen within less than two days. After that, we have to retreat to", he grimaced, Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, "a chart."

Bill Turner, propped his head on his elbow.

"A chart?", echoed Elizabeth suspiciously, sensing trouble.

"Aye", Jack glanced at her with a very unhappy expression on his face, which, oddly, almost made her laugh.

_He is adorable when he-..._ Elizabeth blinked. _What's the matter with me?!_

"Do we have the chart?", asked Bill hesitantly, looking at Jack intently.

"Aye, we do...", replied Jack cautiously, wrinkling his forehead.

Bill smiled with relief. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "We do what?", she asked knowingly.

Jack looked at her, blinking. _Ever so mine Lizzie. _"We do have the chart...", Jack raised his hands, and paused, having Bill and Elizabeth leaning forward in their seats in anticipation, "...on board", he concluded with a happy smile, returning his attention, and his hands to the map on the table.

Elizabeth and "Bootstrap" exchanged glances.

"On board", repeated Elizabeth sourly in that annoyed tone of voice, which Jack knew only too well.

"Aye", he looked up at her, grinning.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. A thought flashed across her mind that she could probably recognize every one of his smiles even in complete darkness... _Complete darkness?! _She screamed at herself in her head. They were discussing a serious issue. They were discussing their future. Will's future. Will and hers future. The chance for a miracle. A miraculous chance to lift the curse, and bring Will back from the World End's dreary waters, to the turquoise waters of the Caribbean. And at such a moment all she could think of was Captain Jack Sparrow... by night.

Bill Turner sighed, and sat back in his chair. "Barbossa", he said, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully.

"Aye", nodded Jack unenthusiastically.

"What?", asked Elizabeth with a frown, as her mind half-consciously registered the word. "You don't mean he is on board?", she looked at Jack questioningly.

Jack blinked. _Ah. That's right. She couldn't remember that either._ "It so is that if the chart is on board then the person", he shrugged, "well, hardly that, but", he waved his hand tiredly. "Then the person who happens to be in the possession of said chart is on board as well."

Elizabeth sighed, and looked absently around the cabin, considering the situation for a moment. All of a sudden she darted her eyes to Jack. "You did not show him the map, did you?", she asked in a serious voice, pointing to the map on the table.

Jack's eyes widened in astonishment. "'Course not!", he exclaimed indignantly, with a hurt expression on his face. "What could make ye even ask such a question?!", he asked, looking offended.

Elizabeth suppressed a chuckle. "I'm just asking", she muttered apologetically, glancing at Bill, who smiled faintly, rubbing his forehead. "Did you see the chart?", asked Elizabeth after a pause.

Jack stared at her blankly for a moment. "But he didn't see the map", he stated defensively, glancing at Elizabeth with slight apprehension.

She tilted her head to the side, and looked at him with mock-irritation, and a glimpse of amusement in her eyes. "How do you know that he even has it at all, then?", she inquired matter-of-factly, narrowing her eyes.

Jack glanced at Bill, who raised his eyebrows expectantly, a trace of a smile flickering across his face. "But he doesn't know if I have the map either", he pouted irritably.

"Jack!" Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest.

"Lizziebeth", retorted Jack, mocking her.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"He wouldn't be here if he didn't know that ye have the map, would he?", offered quietly "Bootstrap" Bill Turner, looking at them with hesitation, hardly enjoying the banter, although under different circumstances he would certainly find it amusing. They were making a charming couple, he had to admit that, even if it hurt him to do so. It hurt him, because he knew what it meant. And it meant pain for somebody he loved most.

Even not knowing Elizabeth very well he could see the difference in her behaviour, the change of attitude. He had noticed that when she was talking to Will she had studied his face very closely, she was trying to match his mood, tried to predict what she should say, while now, here, with Jack, she was just letting herself be. She was saying what she wanted. She was just being herself.

"Of course he wouldn't", said Jack firmly, looking at her triumphantly, but then quickly realizing that Bill's comment was not as helpful as it seemed. Elizabeth giggled. "But he wouldn't be here without the chart, 'cause I wouldn't have let him on board without it", explained Jack stiffly.

"Actually, if you didn't see the chart it's almost like you _did_ let him come on board _without_ it. Theoretically, of course", observed Elizabeth, trying very hard to keep from laughing.

"I see no logic in that reasoning, Your _Majesty_", said Jack calmly with a slight grimace.

"I see less than none in yours, _Captain_ Sparrow", retorted Elizabeth sharply, even though her eyes were still smiling.

She wanted to kiss him. All of a sudden she wanted to kiss him. She had no idea where all those annoying emotions were coming from, but she was almost certain that if it was not for Will's father, she might have thrown herself into Jack's arms at an instant.

"He also needs the chart, so I think we can assume that he has it", said Bill in a low tone of voice.

Elizabeth tore her eyes off Jack afraid that she was probably staring at him to intently. Jack looked at her curiously. She was blushing. _What was she thinking of?_

Bill looked from Jack to Elizabeth waiting for some kind of reaction to his words, but they seemed quite unaware of the fact that he had said anything.

Jack stared at Elizabeth with a strange expression on his face, a mixture of joy and trepidation, while she sat silently, staring blankly at her hands, at the rings... The way Will put the wedding ring on her finger... It felt almost like a threat... or a warning... or a reminder...

She looked up, only to meet Jack's eyes staring back at her in helpless abandon. _"Promise me, 'Lizbeth." _He had said that. She could not go on pretending that he had not said it. She could hear his voice in her head. He had said... He really had said that... He had really said that he loved her. That much she remembered now.

That much she did not ever want to forget; again.

Bill Turner seriously pondered walking out of the cabin, leaving them alone, so they could talk freely, but then again he had just promised _not_ to leave them alone... It was all nonsensical. The entire situation was nonsensical. The cabin was silent, and he knew that neither Elizabeth, nor Jack would not deliberately let the silence prevail, because that silence was giving them away, because he was here to hear that silence. But they were just too lost in each other to think about that. He looked in bewilderment at the man with whom he had sailed seven seas (of water), and drunk another seven seas (of rum), a pirate, a rogue, a philanderer, a scoundrel, a friend, a good friend, a good man staring with dark fascination, with love at that one only girl that he should not think of loving. And he was aware of that. And yet it was the only girl that he has ever loved, as far as Bill could tell.

And yet it was the only girl that his son loved...

And the girl... The girl loved Will... in a way. But the girl was also lost, and confused. And in love. Even if she did not want to acknowledge it. Yet.

"Is anybody in the mood for rum?", asked Bill grimly, with a weak, sad smile.

Jack and Elizabeth darted their eyes to him, suddenly realizing what they were doing, that they were, who knows for how long, completely senselessly staring at each other in front of Will's father.

"Aye. Everybody", said Jack pensively wrinkling his forehead. He felt strangely dazed.

Elizabeth wanted to protest, but then thought better of it. She could drink some rum as well. Maybe it would wash away all those thoughts...

"Aye. I go get some, then", said Bill Turner, slowly staggering to his feet. Jack looked at him in astonishment. "I'm only going to get some rum, and I'm going to be back", said "Bootstrap", shooting Jack a seemingly blank look, and heading for the door.

The door closed with a thud.

Elizabeth stared at her hands. Jack stared at the map.

There was something to be said, and he knew it. Only he did not know what was there to be said. Or perhaps he did know what he should say, but did not know how to say it. Either way-

"I need to know exactly what happened", Elizabeth's voice broke into Jack's train of thoughts. He cautiously looked up at her.

"I know", he said quietly with a light grimace.

"After the sunset", she said in a strangely faltering voice, and sighed.

Jack narrowed his eyes, and studied her face for a moment, her eyes still focused on her hands. On her... trembling hands.

"After... the sunset?", repeated Jack hesitantly, a trace of an uncertain smile flitted across his lips.

"Yes. Please come in the evening. I need to know what happened", she said in a calmer, almost ordinary tone of voice. Almost.

"Oh", acknowledged Jack lightheartedly. "All right, Lizzie. After the sunset, then", he sighed. "I will tell you everything", he added pensively under his breath, averting his eyes, and turning his gaze to the map.

Elizabeth slowly shifted her eyes to him. She watched him in silence for a moment, as he measured some distances on the map. All of a sudden she reached out, and touched his hand. The quill pen slipped out of his hand, and he lifted his eyes, and looked at her questioningly.

"What is it, Lizzie?", he asked in a whisper, carefully turning his hand under her touch, and closing his fingers around her hand.

She looked at him in silence for another moment, trying to calm down, trying to think whether she should say it... What was she doing? It was wrong... No. It was right. Oddly, she felt as if it was right. As if it was really right. And even if it wasn't...

"I don't want you to tell me what happened", she said looking at him intently.

Jack blinked, confused, but only transiently, until his confusion turned into a feeling of complete, blissful, disbelieving shock.

"I don't want you to _tell_ me what happened", repeated Elizabeth in a soft whisper. "I want you to _show_ me."

Jack's eyes widened, and they looked at each other for a moment yet, until the door opened, and Bill Turner returned to the cabin carrying several bottles of rum.

Elizabeth pulled her hand out of Jack's grasp, and for the next few hours of talking, discussing, arguing, and plan making she hardly even glanced at him. But he did not mind. He was too busy waiting for the sunset to come...

...and for Bill Turner to get drunk.


	46. Chapter 46

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 46**

Getting a man drunk is not a particularly difficult task.

Unless the man is a pirate who had spent the better part of his life drinking.

It was almost dark outside, and after much talking, when all the aspects of the journey had been already thoroughly discussed, and after many bottles of rum, Bill Turner was still able to sit upright (with a little help on the part of his elbows) at the table, making his interlocutors grow more and more frustrated with every passing moment.

"Fine rum, that is", said Bill Turner in a slightly cracking voice, taking another swig from his bottle.

"Think not", objected Jack drily.

Elizabeth shot him an amused look. She felt little giddy, although she had not drunk much. Not that she needed any rum to feel giddy... It was enough to glance at a certain pirate captain, and catch a glimpse of his dark eyes sweeping her greedily. It might be even funny, if it did not dismay her that she felt utterly and completely drunk by the simple act of looking at him. And while for the last few hours she had not dared to look at him almost at all, now, with Bill Turner being slightly less observant than several bottles of rum ago, she found herself shifting her eyes to Jack more and more often. Although she hardly knew at all what she was doing. _Oh, you know very well what you're doing, don't you? _She snapped to herself bitterly. How could she even consider... Being as conscious as she was... being (almost) sober, being (fairly) reasonable she should not even consider it...

Because if it was not going to end well, if their journey was futile, if the Fountain of Youth did not exist... then the responsibility was still exclusively hers. The responsibility for Will's life... How could she treat it so lightly? And not only his life, his future, but also his feelings. She could not just betray him...

_But I could kill Jack, because it was easier than telling him-, than telling Will-, than telling myself that- What was that if not a betrayal?_

_...which doesn't make another betrayal easier... _

_...or harder... _

The cabin was almost dark, too dark.

"Do you have a candlestick here, Jack?", asked Elizabeth in a low voice.

"Aye. It's dark", nodded Bill Turner, squinting, and looking at his bottle of rum intently.

_Maybe he will at least fall asleep_, thought Jack hopefully. "Aye, luv. I do", he said staggering to his feet. He glanced at "Bootstrap", who stared at the rum with deep interest, apparently paying limited attention to his surroundings. "Help me find it, darling", said Jack quickly, grabbing Elizabeth by the hand, and pulling her with him away from the table.

Elizabeth almost tripped over her own feet, taken off guard by Jack's actions.

"What are you doing?", she asked in a whisper, which came out sounding less scolding than intended.

"It's in there!", exclaimed Jack, loud enough for Bill Turner to hear it. He dragged Elizabeth to the bedroom, and closed the door behind them. "There", he said contentedly, pulling bewildered Elizabeth into an embrace.

"Jack", whispered Elizabeth with indignation, her eyes gazing into his with poorly concealed fascination. "We have to-"

"Get 'im drunk, I know", cut in Jack with a grimace, bringing his hand to Elizabeth's face, and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"That's not what I meant", said Elizabeth in a serious voice, almost involuntarily lifting her hands, and resting them on Jack's shoulders.

"Ah", smirked Jack, caressing the side of her face with the back of his hand. "So what is it that we have to...", he paused, pushing her hair away from her neck.

"We have to go back", said Elizabeth in a lame, faltering voice, watching his face intently.

"Aye. This is exactly what I'm doing, luv", said Jack with a mischievous smile. "I'm going back. In time. As you have so kindly requested." He slowly leaned down, and began placing feathery light kisses along her neck.

To Elizabeth's disappointment her intended protest, came out as a gasp. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she tilted her head to the side, trying to remember what she had wanted to say. "It's not after sunset yet", she whispered weakly, nuzzling his neck, and wrapping her arms around him. "And we're not... exactly... alone", she whispered, her mind clouding over at a terrifying rate.

"Trifles", muttered Jack, continuing grazing her skin, and nibbling it lightly, as he moved his lips from her neck, to the the side of her face, planting soft kisses along her jawline, and finally brushing his lips against hers. "How do you like your forgotten past so far, luv?", he asked quietly against her lips.

Elizabeth leisurely opened her eyes. Was there mist in the cabin?... Or only before her eyes? In the faint light of the approaching dusk coming from the window, she saw Jack's eyes glimmered like two black stars, the dark light of his brown orbs blinding her, hypnotizing her, clearing her mind of all thoughts... And it felt familiar. That feeling of helplessness, of bliss, of trepidation.

And guilt.

"Very enticing", she admitted with a faint smile, receiving an impish smirk in return. "But-"

He pressed his lips against hers, and kissed her passionately, savouring her lips with callous fierceness, and tightening his embrace around her. She held on to him in abandon, unable to pull away, even though a voice in her head kept screaming, and shouting at her. But the voice was becoming more and more muffled, as she felt shivers running up and down her spine, the shivers drowning her in the murky waves of elating heat. He tardily broke the kiss when she moaned his name, fighting for air.

"No fainting, luv", smirked Jack, and she opened her darkened eyes with difficulty, meeting his dark, slightly amused, but at the same time very serious gaze.

She looked at him thoughtfully, catching her breath, and listening to him catching his. "Tell me_ that_", she breathed. Jack looked at her uncertainly. "I remember... I think I remember something... But I'm not sure... Maybe I made it up...", she gazed into his eyes with hesitation.

He studied her face for a moment, stroking her hair with an enigmatic smile hovering over his lips. "Now", he said all of a sudden in a lighthearted tone of voice. "Where'd be that candelabra?", he put a finger to his chin in a thoughtful gesture, and walked away, looking into one of the cabinets.

Elizabeth blinked, stupefied, following him with her eyes, as he continued searching in the most casual manner, as if nothing had happened.

"Ah!" Jack smiled, reaching inside the armoire, and pulling a brass candlestick with three branches out of it. "Here it is."

Elizabeth stared at him, puzzled. She was not even able to start being annoyed with him. She was too dazed after the kiss, and too surprised by his evasiveness to answer her question.

Jack lit the candles, and it gave the cabin a mysterious, little eerie, yet beautiful look.

It crossed Elizabeth's mind that perhaps she was right before, when she had randomly accused him of taking advantage of her. She felt almost on the verge of crying. She looked at her hands. Two rings sparkling in the dim light... Perhaps it was not a memory after all. Perhaps he had never said it. Perhaps he did not-

"When you laid unconscious after that accident in Tortuga..."

Elizabeth looked up. Jack stood by the cabinet with his back turned towards her, the quiet hissing of the burning candles interlaced with the sound of his voice.

"...I was thinking of what would've happened if we'd met earlier... before... I was thinking of all those unsaid words, all the right words rightly not said, and the wrong words rightly said, and the right words said in a wrong way, and all that, ye know..."

"I know", she whispered, putting her hand over his. He looked at her surprised that she was not standing by the door anymore, but right next to him.

"Lizzie", he turned to her. She smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him softly on the lips, wrapping her arms around his neck, forgetting about everything, for a few moments leaving the world around her for the world enclosed in his touch, in his kiss, in his scent which was for her right now more important, more necessary to breath than air. He kissed her back feverishly, and this kiss reminded her of something, of another kiss... in some room that looked unfamiliar... Tortuga... It was in Tortuga... She pressed her lips to his... and he returned the kiss... and-

Jack broke her memory-sodden train of thoughts by breaking the kiss, taking her hand in his, grabbing the candelabra, and heading for the door. He put his hand on the knob, but did not open it. After a moment of silence he turned towards her, and looked in her brown eyes that sparkled in the candlelight like two pieces of gold with transfixing intensity. He leaned into her, brushed his fingertips across her lips, and said with a trace of his roguish smile contrasting with the solemnity in his eyes: "And no, you didn't make anything up, luv." And before Elizabeth managed to answer, he silenced her with a kiss, and whispered into her ear. "Now, let's get more rum for Bill."

* * *

"...and then we cut the poles down, and run through the jungle to the... to the...", Bill Turner wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully, falling into a temporary stupor. He was trying (for the last two hours) to tell a story, but after so much rum, the details were getting all mixed up, and he could not follow his own memories anymore. 

"To the bay", said Jack grimly with audible sense of hopelessness in his voice, holding his head in his hands, and looking blankly into the distance.

Elizabeth chuckled, and gave an empty rum bottle that laid on the table a spin. The bottle rolled across the wooden surface, and fell to the floor, breaking noisily into pieces. Elizabeth giggled. Jack shifted his eyes to her, and blinked.

"Careful, luv", he said solemnly, waggling his finger at her. "Don't brake no more rum... that is... burn... don't burn no more bottles... no..." Jack trailed off, and sighed.

"But there is no fire, Jack," mumbled Elizabeth, and rested her head on Jack's shoulder.

"The bay, aye, the bay it was", nodded Bill Turner. "And the _Pearl_ was docked...", he rubbed his forehead, and squinted.

"It was supposed to be docked", broke in Jack, waving one of his hands in the air, while wrapping the other around Elizabeth's neck.

"Supposed to?", "Bootstrap" looked up at Jack, and blinked.

"Aye", confirmed Jack. "But she was not, 'cause-"

"There is no fire, Jack", cut in Elizabeth irritably, snuggling her head into Jack's neck. "What's happened to the fire?"

"No", Bill Turner shook his head decisively. "It was not supposed to be on fire. It was supposed to be docked", he stated firmly, grabbing an almost empty rum bottle, and taking a long swig.

Elizabeth lifted her head slightly, tapped Jack on the shoulder, and looked at his profile with great intensity. "Is he drunk now?", she pouted in a clearly rum-affected tone of voice.

Jack turned his head to look at her. He blinked several times, and then leaned his forehead against hers. "I don't know if he's drunk, but me and you-"

"Us!", exclaimed Elizabeth, awkwardly hitting Jack lightly on the shoulder.

"Aye, luv. Us. Us are drunk", said Jack tiredly. "I think", he added sceptically.

"But is _he_ drunk?", asked Elizabeth urgently, tugging at Jack's shirt.

"No, not drunk." Bill Turner put the empty rum bottle on the table with a thud. "Docked", he said as distinctly as he could after drinking twice as much rum as Jack, and eight times as much as Elizabeth. "Docked not drunk", he repeated under his breath, and sighed.

"Jack", Elizabeth twirled one of Jack's dreadlocks around her finger. "Is he docked now?", she asked exhaustedly, her head sliding limpily onto Jack's shoulder.

* * *

Will stood at the helm of the _Flying __Dutchman _nervously clutching the spokes of the wheel, and impatiently awaiting to break through the water surface. Even knowing that Elizabeth was safe with his father watching over her, he still wanted to have her back on his ship, with him, so they could spend some time together, to talk about the past, and about the future. Now that she remembered... 

Although it still bothered him somehow what could have happened on the _Black Pearl_... But what could have happened there? It was only several days... And she had regarded all the people aboard as strangers... _Yet, she had agreed to come on board in the first place_, he reminded himself grimly. And now she did not even remember what had happened... But perhaps it was better that way. If she did not remember, then it was almost as if it had never happened. Whatever had happened. If anything had happened. But of course nothing had happened.

"We're breaking through!", shouted one of the crew members.

"Hold the lines!", ordered Will with a smile.

* * *

It was actually quite an achievement that in such a state Jack still had managed to carry Elizabeth to her cabin. He laid her carefully on the bed, and kissed her softly on the lips. 

"It's after sunset", she muttered drowsily.

"It's almost sunrise", said Jack in a low voice, stroking her hair for a moment, and pulling away, but she pulled him back, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Don't go", she whispered with a pout, her eyes fluttering open for a moment, before quickly fluttering shut again.

"I think I've heard that before", replied Jack under his breath, his head falling limpily into the crook of Elizabeth's neck. He fell asleep almost immediately, and so did she.

* * *

Will stepped onto the deck of the _Black Pearl _shortly after the sunrise. He quickly made his way below deck. In the hallway he almost tripped over empty bottles scattered on the floor. He glanced at them curiously, walking straight to Elizabeth's cabin, but he noticed the door to Captain's Quarters being wide-open, so he decided to look in there first... There was more bottles of rum, most of them empty, some of them broken, laying on the floor, and standing on the table. There was also... his father sitting, or rather sleeping at the table, his head laying flat against the wooden surface. Will stared at him for a moment in stupefaction, briefly considering waking him up, and asking what was going on, but then choosing to check on Elizabeth first. 

Elizabeth's cabin door was half-open, so he just pushed it little further, and walked in without knocking...

Elizabeth woke up at the sound of... Well, she was not sure what that sound was, but she was sure that it was loud. Or at least it sounded loud... very loud... and it reverberated in her head... and her head hurt... she was absolutely certain that she had never had such a terrible headache before...

"It's after the sunset now?", she asked exhaustedly, still keeping her eyes closed, and not really expecting anybody to answer her question. She brought her hand to her head, and gasped. It just hurt so much-

"It's after the sunrise", came a rather cold, and apparently angry voice.

Elizabeth's eyes flew wide open. She knew that voice. The voice... She grimaced, and closed her eyes again, as the nagging headache was becoming stronger. But she nevertheless struggled to push herself up on the bed, although it was so unbelievably difficult thing to do... Strangely difficult... As if there was something preventing her from-

She opened her eyes to the sight of dreadlocks spread all over her chest. She blinked several times, trying to put all the pieces together, and figure out what had happened, and why had she been sleeping with Jack in her arms?!... She vaguely remembered him carrying her to her cabin after all that talking, and drinking, and waiting for Bill Turner to pass out, which he never did...

And then she froze. The voice. It was not Jack's voice, because Jack was, apparently, still asleep with his head nestled comfortably into her breast...

She slowly turned her head, and saw a pair of very angry, cold, condescending eyes glaring at her.

Needless to say, whom did they belong to.


	47. Chapter 47

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

The length of this chapter scares me... Unfortunately, that's not the only scary thing about this chapter...

Yet another scary thing is... that next chapter won't be up on Friday... (But it should be up on Saturday or Sunday:)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 47**

_It was late at night. The sky was dark blue, and the gold moon cast a glittering shadow over the empty deck of the Black Pearl. Jack stood at the helm, watching the hidden horizon, the humming of waves quietening his mind._

"_I was looking for you, Jack", a soft voice spoke right into his ear._

"_Is that-" She kissed his neck. "so", he said under his breath with a smile._

_Elizabeth ducked under his arms that were clutching the spokes, and appeared in front of him with a sweet smile on her face. "Why else would I have come to Tortuga?", she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, and kissing him passionately on the mouth._

"_'Cause ye missed me, luv?" He asked, smiling impishly, and running his fingers through her hair._

"_Yes", she breathed, pushing his coat off his shoulders. "I missed you, and I came to find you, because... I love you", she said, sprinkling light, warm kisses all over his face, her hands tugging on his shirt, ripping off the fabric, and throwing the shreds away._

"_That'd be me good shirt, Lizzie-luv", murmured Jack, capturing her lips in a long, fervent kiss, at the same time ripping her dress down from her shoulders._

_She laughed, and pressed her body against his, and..._

_... grabbing him by his dreadlocks, began shaking his head mercilessly?!_

"Oi, no, no, not good, ooii-"

Jack fell to the floor with a thud, opened his eyes, shook his head, and blinked several times. "Oi", he said, wrinkling his forehead in disappointment. "Oi", he repeated with a pout, realizing all at once that it was only a dream, while on the other hand the events of the last evening had not gone too well either. At sunset they were still drinking bloody rum, and- "Oi", repeated Jack for the third time, noticing a pair of black boots in dangerously close proximity to his face. He looked up...

"Will, let me-", Elizabeth jumped out of the bed, and stepping over Jack (who was still sitting on the floor, not fully awaken yet), came up to Will (the black boots' happy owner).

"What is going on here?", asked Will in an icy cold voice.

"Nothing!", exclaimed Elizabeth with slight irritation, putting her hand to her forehead, the pain caused by the excessive amount of rum from last night pulsating in her brows.

"Nothing?", Will stared at her incredulously.

"Of course", she stood in front of him with a very surprised look on her face, sounding offended. "Don't be ridiculous!"

"Ridiculous?", echoed Will darkly in disbelief. "I am being ridiculous?", he asked slowly, making long pauses between the words.

Jack watched them for a moment from his spot on the floor, trying to shake the feeling of drowsiness off himself. Snapping back to the reality, he finally pushed himself up to the standing position. "I have to agree with the King here", he offered with a small smile, at last joining the conversation. Will did not even look at him, but his features hardened.

Elizabeth shot Jack a concerned look, although she thought that she should rather be mad at him right now. What was he thinking?! How could he put them in that situation?! Yet, she regretted throwing him out of the bed, and onto the floor, and she hoped he did not hurt much, but she just could not have done anything else. Will was staring at them, and she just could not have been laying still with Jack on top of her, trying to wake him up in a nice manner. So she had pushed him down to the floor. But, to her relief, he did not seem to mind.

"What king?", Will looked confused for a moment.

Elizabeth darted her eyes to him, her face suddenly solemn. "Me", she said with slight irritation.

Jack glanced at her with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes. He did not think that she actually did care that much about that title.

Will rolled his eyes, dismissing the subject. "Can you tell me why... what...", he snarled, obviously having difficulties with phrasing his question. "What have you been doing?", he asked looking at Elizabeth with oppressive intensity.

"I told you already. Nothing!", exclaimed Elizabeth angrily. She was tired of the conversation, and of the nagging headache was not helping either.

"That's right", cut in Jack. Will shifted his eyes to him with annoyance. "We only slept with each other", said Jack with innocent carelessness.

Elizabeth slowly shifted her disbelieving eyes to Jack, paling at an instant. Will blinked.

"I mean... _on_ each other", Jack waved his hands smiling apologetically. "Together, that is", he added, grinning. "In each other's company, in the company of one another, with one next to one another-"

"Will, how can you even-", broke in Elizabeth, finding Jack's explanations rather unhelpful.

"How can I even what?" Will looked at her steadily, and she fell silent, taken aback by the coldness in his eyes. She has never seen him look at her like that before.

Well, actually she has. Once...

"Jack just walked me to my cabin. I was little...", she hesitated.

"Drunk", offered Jack helpfully.

"Drunk?", Will wrinkled his forehead, the rum bottles scattered on the floor flashing across his mind.

"Yes, of course", she confirmed, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "We were looking at the map, and discussing it, and talking about the Fountain, and we drank some rum... You can ask your father", Elizabeth gasped impatiently.

"I would, but he happens to be asleep", said Will sourly.

"What?!" Jack and Elizabeth exclaimed in unison.

Will raised his eyebrows. They both looked away disinterestedly, but with oddly irritated expressions on their faces.

"So he walked you to your cabin, and couldn't find the door to get out?", asked Will sardonically after a moment of silence, crossing his arms across his chest. At that point it was clear that apparently nothing had happened, and he did not feel like arguing. Elizabeth was too calm (or arrogant, for that matter) to be lying, the rum bottles were indeed everywhere, the door was ajar, and they were also fully clothed... And after all, the very idea, was, indeed ridiculous. And he did not really suspect them of anything. At least not Elizabeth. But it was infuriating enough that _he_ had ever touched her at all. Even if it was only accidental, and it meant nothing; which he doubted, remembering all of a sudden how Elizabeth had acted when she had not remember him. How she had run to Jack for protection...

"That's it!", agreed Jack happily, but stopped smiling under Will's stern, and Elizabeth's alarmed gazes.

"He must have fallen asleep", said Elizabeth with a shrug of her shoulders, "accidentally... on... on the bed with me... He was drunk too", she added, looking Will straight in the eye.

"He's always drunk", observed Will grimly.

"I'm still here", said Jack, pointing to himself with a cocky smile.

Will looked at him sternly. "But we're not", he said narrowing his eyes, and all of a sudden grabbing Elizabeth's hand, and heading for the door. There was no point in discussing what had happened. He was not going to be tricked this time. All what Jack had ever done was lying and making things up for his own benefit, getting him and Elizabeth in trouble in the meantime. And now it was also some kind of a scheme. Only Will was not sure what kind of a scheme it was this time.

It was probable that Jack had gotten Elizabeth drunk deliberately. But then why would he have gotten himself drunk as well?

"Will, wait. Where are you taking me?", asked Elizabeth with a nervous smile, stopping Will in his tracks.

"On the _Dutchman_", answered Will, as if surprised by her question. "Where else?"

Elizabeth stared at him blankly, looking as if she wanted to say something, but Will's piercing gaze prevented her from doing so.

"If I may suggest something", said Jack coming up to them.

"No, you can't", replied Will drily, pulling Elizabeth towards him, placing her behind him, and all of a sudden drawing out his pistol, and putting it against Jack's chest. Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Will!", exclaimed Elizabeth in astonishment, pulling Will by his shirt sleeve. "Stop it! This is ridiculous!"

"Stay away from her", said Will through his gritted teeth. "If you ever touch her, I swear I will kill you", said Will venomously, in a low, firm tone of voice, glaring at Jack steadily, and ignoring Elizabeth's exclamations.

Jack held his gaze with a glimpse of strange solemnity in his eyes. It reminded Elizabeth of that look in his eyes when he had shot Barbossa. And yet, there was also a trace of amusement...

"What's going on here?", came a slightly drowsy voice from behind.

Will glanced over Jack's shoulder, and met his father's questioning, and baffled look. "Nothing", he frowned, lowering his pistol.

"Little more than nothing, from the look of it", muttered Bill Turner coming closer to them, and shifting his bewildered eyes between the three of them.

"Will is just drawing exaggerated conclusions from unimportant incidents", said Elizabeth stiffly, holding back a smile when Jack winced at the word "unimportant".

Will snorted, and put his pistol away with a sigh. "I don't think there was much to exaggerate. I think that incident was already an exaggeration", observed Will, shooting Elizabeth a grim look.

Bill Turner looked puzzled.

"I think _you_ exaggerate, turning a simple occurrence of two drunken people falling asleep in one bed into something worth arguing about", retorted Elizabeth irritatedly.

Jack coughed, trying not to chuckle. Will stared at Elizabeth with disbelief, but she was looking at him with stunning calmness, which actually made her words seem reasonable, even despite their apparent unreasonableness.

Bill Turner blinked, and scratched his forehead, trying to recall in detail the events of the past night. "We just studied the map", he started, attracting Will's attention, "talked, and drank some... rum", he said with a shrug of his shoulders.

Will looked at him gloomily, and somewhat disappointedly. "I left my wife in your charge", he said in a low voice, turning to his father. "Why did you let _him_ get her drunk?", he asked peevishly.

Jack raised his hand, ready to protest against that unfair accusation, but Elizabeth gave him a sharp, silencing look, so he just smirked, wriggling his fingers briefly in the air, and letting his hand drop back to his side. She rolled her eyes, and looked away, shivering at a sudden memory of last evening's illicit kisses... She glanced at him once more, and caught him staring at her, still smirking. He could not read her mind, could he?!

"Well, actually", Bill Turner hesitated, seeing the expression of disappointment on Will's face. And it hurt him. It hurt him to be the source of his son's disappointment. Again. "Actually it was my-"

"Nobody got me drunk", cut in Elizabeth. "I am perfectly capable of getting drunk myself. I wanted to drink some rum, so I drank it", she stated firmly, but seeing a still stern look on Will's face added in a softer voice. "I thought that it will make that... headache go away."

"What headache?", asked Will, turning towards her with a suddenly concerned look on his face, which made Elizabeth feel awful. Lying to Will felt like lying to a child.

"I don't know", she answered uncertainly, glad that Will's attitude changed, but not quite prepared for his further inquiries. "It just... hurt", she shrugged her shoulders, and looked at Will with slight flutter of her eyelashes. "It still does", she added in a low tone of voice, putting a hand to the side of her face.

Jack's eyes lit up with an idea. "I told ye", he said addressing Will with a grimace.

Elizabeth glanced at Jack with trepidation. _What was he doing now?!_

Will darted his eyes to Jack irritatedly. "What?", he asked impatiently.

"Acupuncture", reminded him Jack with a knowing smile.

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow, and looked at Jack questioningly. Will narrowed his eyes.

"The lack of it, actually", continued Jack, ignoring Elizabeth's and "Bootstrap"s puzzled facial expressions. "It's been two days already, I think", said Jack thoughtfully.

Elizabeth looked at Will expecting him to be as puzzled as she, but instead meeting his very gloomy, and apparently not at all surprised gaze. "Is it bad?", he asked quietly, turning to her with a worried expression on his face.

Elizabeth stared at him, trying to figure out what was going on _this_ time. "You mean... the headache?", she asked, baffled. Will nodded. She glanced over his shoulder, and saw Jack looking at her intently with a warm, roguish glow in his eyes. "Yes, it is very bad", she said with deep conviction, giving Will a sad smile, still having no idea what was going on, but, seeing an impish smile on Jack's face, she thought that she had probably given Will a correct answer. Or at least _correct _according to Jack... Which meant that it was probably _very_ _in_correct...

Will sighed, and stared at the floor.

"Can somebody explain to me-", started Elizabeth cautiously, but was cut off by Jack, who gracefully stepped between her and Will, gesticulating.

"Let me, luv", said Jack with a smile. Elizabeth glanced at Will, who looked at Jack sternly, but said nothing, as if considering something. "So", he started, "ever since that unfortunate accident you've been having viciously repetitious, or repetitiously vicious, as it were, headaches", said Jack narrowing his eyes.

Elizabeth blinked. Obviously, the headache she was having right now was the aftermath of last night's rum... The last night's headache, on the other hand had been caused by her rather disturbing thoughts about a certain person who was now rambling about some yet different headaches she had not the faintest idea of.

"Following the doctor's prescriptions, which I'd been fortuitously able to follow due to my vast experience in the following field, I'd given ye treatment for said headaches, making said headaches stop following about ye", he said making a shoving gesture with his hand. "However, I fret that this time ye'll have to endure the pain, since even the most vicious headache cannot compare to dying, and dying is what awaits me if I do as much as lay me finger on ye", he said, turning around to glance at Will knowingly, "and I'm afraid that'd be inescapable even for as skilled an acupuncturist as me, so if ye excuse me", he said with a smirk, and a bow turning on his heel, and strolling away.

Elizabeth followed him with her eyes in total confusion, hardly comprehending what he had just said, except that it was apparently one of Captain Jack Sparrow's speeches, and it had something to do with headaches and needles. But, strangely enough, Will seemed to grasp Jack's meaning better than she did this time.

"Wait", Will called after him in a far from content, but urgent nevertheless tone of voice. Jack stopped in his tracks, and turned around. "Does it hurt much?", asked Will tentatively, in a low voice, putting his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, and studying her face concernedly.

Elizabeth's confusion grew. But she had a vague impression that she rather liked where that conversation was going, as long as it was giving her some hope of staying aboard the _Black Pearl_. "I can't even think", she said in a faltering voice, bringing her hand to her head, and grimacing slightly. A hot wave of guilt washed over her. How could she be taking him in like that? It was Will. Caring, loving, always sincere Will, and she was just deceiving him, lying to him in a vicious way...

Well, actually she did have a headache. Was a reason for the headache all that important after all?... It hurt, and that it hurt was not a lie.

To her surprise, Will cupped her face in his hands, and looked at her worriedly. "I don't want you to hurt. If it really helps", he trailed off, and sighed.

Instead of going on telling more lies, Elizabeth reduced her deception techniques to wincing, and gasping.

And before she knew it, and not really knowing how it had happened, she was in the Captain's Quarters with Jack.

Jack closed the door behind them with a very complacent smile on his face. He nonchalantly locked the door, and turned to Elizabeth. "Now... Where were we?...", he said in a low voice, walking up to her.

"And what kind of nonsense is that this time?", she asked in a fairly sharp tone of voice, half-consciously noticing her suddenly quickened heartbeat. She really did not know how he had managed to do that. How, after that disaster in the morning, he still had made Will let her go with him _alone _to the Captain's Quarters, while Will was going to wait for her on the upper deck.

"Acupuncture, luv, is not a nonsense", said Jack with a wave of his hand. "Some very skillful Chinese medical masters might actually feel offended by your comment", he smiled, pulling her into an embrace.

"Are viciously repetitious headaches a nonsense then?", asked Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow in an attempt to remain serious.

Jack smirked. "Don't know, luv. Never had one", he answered simply, lazily drawing his hand across her face, and then drawing his hand away, he leaned towards her, and whispered with a cocky smile. "Neither had you."

"I have figured that much", replied Elizabeth in a whisper, narrowing her eyes.

Jack grinned. "I'd expected no less", he said, pulling her closer, and tightening his embrace around her.

"Where does that story come from?", she asked, studying his face with great intensity. For a moment she could not believe they were standing face to face, together, alone, real. It had been a long journey from the imaginary travels described in books, and reenacted in a child's imagination, through that first encounter already marked by attraction, and scarred by deception, through the time when she had tried to forget, although there was not much to forget. A dance? A song? A bottle of rum? Some words. A touch. A farewell... Until it all came crashing down on her again. And she had just wanted to sail... with no port, and no end... But there was an end, and a port to be reached, and a man to be found... And she had tried to forget again. So easy, with deception on hand, again. The chain of lies.

And everything was gone. And she had not cared how much would it have cost to get it back. That lie. And made it true. But then, there was a war, and a promise to be kept... and fulfilled... and so she had... shouted words with no future... apparently... And little did she know...

There _was_ a future, only it was no future. Time without days. Days without life. Life without-

And only in dreams, or rather instead of dreams, as the sleep was a rare visitor, there were those thoughts about what could have been, but never will...

The thoughts flew across her mind as she listened to Jack's explanation concerning the acupuncture.

"I don't see how anybody would believe that", stated Elizabeth sceptically.

"Well", said Jack with a chuckle. "I believe I did see someone who did", he said, tucking the strands of Elizabeth's hair behind her ear, then pulling them over her face again, then back behind her ear.

Elizabeth stood motionlessly for a while just watching his face as he did that. All of a sudden he seemed to be lost in thought. "Jack, what are you doing?", she asked amusedly, in a soft voice, smiling cautiously.

He stopped, still holding a lock of her hair in his hand, staring at it for a moment before shifting his eyes to meet hers. "Can I ask you something, Lizzie?", he said in a low, serious tone of voice.

Elizabeth looked at him apprehensively. Questions like that never boded well. "Of course", she whispered.

"Do you love him?"

Elizabeth looked at Jack wide-eyed, taken aback by the question. He stared at her in silence for a moment, before reaching for her hand, and darting his eyes to it. "Because, you see, one of these rings has to go", he said almost inaudibly, his thumb absent-mindedly brushing the back of her hand.

And there were so many things she should say, so many obstacles, reasons, obligations, doubts she was ought to voice, and mention, and take into consideration, but somehow... it was all gone at the very moment when he looked up at her.

She leaned into him, and kissed him softly on the lips. He did not drew back, but did not return the kiss either. She opened her eyes, and he was still looking at her in the same serious way, waiting for an answer. She cupped his face in his hands, and looking him deeply in the eyes, her lips almost touching his, whispered:

"I love you."

And as the words left her lips it suddenly struck her that they were really true, that they were true all along, as far as she could remember... And it felt sweet, and frightening at the same time to finally say them, to admit that to him, and to herself. Most importantly to herself. Suddenly everything was simple.

Yet, he did not say a word.

"It is not exactly the answer to my question", he said with a twitch of his mouth which could be interpreted as a smile, although it was anything but cheerful. His voice were calm, and quiet, as he continued looking at her in that strange, solemn way.

Elizabeth stared at him, wide-eyed, slightly baffled, expecting something more from him after her confession. It was almost as if he did not care, or at least did not hear what she had said at all.

"Jack...", she trailed off, not really knowing what to say, watching his eyes darkening with gloom.

He let go of her hand, and slowly walked away, heading for the door. Elizabeth looked at him, the air suddenly feeling very cold when she inhaled it. He opened the door, and walked out.

How could he walk out? She had just told him- She... She did not know what she felt for Will right now... exactly... But she knew what she felt for Jack. And she had told him... And he had ignored it. Or he had not believed her... Or perhaps-

She blinked, and ran to the door, catching up with him in the hallway, blocking his way. He stopped abruptly, and looked at her almost blankly, with a frown; his eyes unreadable.

"Jack I-", she started brokenly.

"Don't, Lizzie. I understand. Go. Just go", he said in a very polite, indifferent tone of voice, still looking at her with that half-blank, half-frowning expression on his face.

Go? She stared at him in disbelief. He wanted her to go? After all that? After all that she did not remember, and all that she did? Go? After she had told him that she loved him? Go?

He lost his balance for a second when she slapped him, looking, this time, sincerely surprised.

"You're not only daft, but deaf as well!", she shouted, shaking from anger, her face flaming, tears glistening in her eyes.

She turned on her heel, but before she even started running away, he caught her wrist, and spun her around locking her in his arms, and capturing her lips in an ardent, rapacious kiss. She made one maladroit attempt to brake free, but gave up almost immediately, returning the kiss with fervent passion, and clinging to him with all her might.

* * *

Will stood at the stern of the _Black Pearl_ absent-mindedly tapping the rail. He did not like the idea of Elizabeth being alone with Jack, but he could not let her suffer only because he was... jealous. Jealous. Why was he jealous? Jack's interest in Elizabeth was obviously half-serious, and she was surely aware of that. She liked him... maybe even she liked him too much, but it was also a half-serious feeling, apparently. 

But there was still one memory that bothered him. _That _kiss. Even though he knew why she had done that, it still flashed across his mind from time to time with destructive intensity. That kiss was a lie, a trick, a tool. But the way she had kissed him was-

How long can that acupuncture session take? Maybe it would be better if he waited for her right there, by the door. Maybe he could knock, and ask if everything was all right.

Will pushed himself away from the rail, and headed for the stairs leading below deck. He took maybe two steps down, when he suddenly stopped, frozen to the spot, and transfixed by the sight.

The sight that could not be real. It just could not be real. It could not be...

The woman that he loved more than anything in the world, his wife, his beautiful wife in the arms of that liar, of that traitor, that bastard, that pirate, that-

And it was as if his hand had a mind of its own... His hand reached for his pistol... His hand cocked it... And-

Suddenly he was grabbed from behind, dragged away from the stairs, and slammed against the wall. It happened so fast, and so unexpectedly, that he did not even manage to make a sound. The pistol slipped out of his hand. His eyes burned, or was it his mind? Or his heart? Wherever that was...

"What do-", he started with fury, desperately trying to break free, when he stopped all of a sudden astonished to meet Barbossa's bloodshot eyes staring at him steadily.

Of all the people he did not expect _him_ to care for Jack's life.

...and perhaps he was right...

Barbossa let go of him, and took a step backwards, narrowing his eyes in an evil grin: "There are better ways to deal with _problems_, Master Turner. An' I'm guessin' ye're _finally_ in the _mood_ to discuss that subject."


	48. Chapter 48

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 48**

Elizabeth cringed. "What was that?" She broke the kiss, and looked around with apprehension.

"That'd be me lips", muttered Jack, cupping the side of her face, and gently turning her head back towards him. "On yers, luv", he smirked, and kissed her again.

"No, no, I mean that sound..." Elizabeth tried to argue, but returned the kiss nonetheless.

"That'd be you, realizing the aforementioned fact", replied Jack smilingly.

"No, Jack, I'm ser...", she trailed off, falling into his dark gaze, which seemed to draw her closer and closer to him in every possible sense. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his with a smile.

* * *

"Leave me alone", muttered Will angrily, starting for the stairs, his temples throbbing wildly, and his heart... his heart was racing... it would have been racing... it would have hurt... And it did. He was certain that it actually did hurt. 

"An' tell me, what are ye goin' to do, then?", asked Barbossa with a sneer. "Shoot _him_? It'd make quite a disturbin' memory, an' not the one to be easily, or rather _ever_ forgiven."

Will stopped in his tracks, his back turned to Barbossa, his foot on the top stair, his hand on the railing.

"Shoot _her_? That's be a waste, if ye care to hear my opinion. But I ain't inclined to think that ye'd actually do _that_."

Will moved abruptly, as if he was going to continue his walk down the stairs.

"Shoot yerself? Oh, I'm sorry", he chuckled darkly. "This ye can't do, can ye?"

Will turned around. "But I can shoot you."

Barbossa snorted, and raised his eyebrows. "Aye. That ye can, which leaves ye with nobody t'tell ye what moonlight serenades were played on this ship during the past week. An' with nobody t'help ye disperse the orchestra without losing the first violin", he said narrowing his eyes in a sweetish smile.

Will stared at him with virtually no expression on his face, except for silent, grim fury glistening in his eyes. He did not want to listen. He just wanted to go there, and destroy that nightmare, somehow.

"It's only a kiss, boy", said Barbossa with a grimace. Will's hands rolled into fists. He glared at his interlocutor. "A kiss or two didn't kill anybody yet. Well", Barbossa paused, and squinted. "Actually I can recall one instance when it did", he snarled. "But", he looked at Will intently. "It's nothin' they haven't done before, is it? An' it's up to ye if anythin' _more_ happens."

"Nothing happened, then?", asked Will sharply, but decidedly to quickly to sound indifferent.

Barbossa sneered to himself.

"Apparently yer lovely wife is very fond of our dear captain's _thorough_ kisses", said Barbossa in a low voice, observing interestedly all the possible soul-shattering emotions storming across Will's face. "But that'd be it", he added after a pause, watching, with a half-grin, a slight relief flickering across Will's face. _That's it. Very good. Angry, but not too angry. Scared, but hopeful. Desperate._

Will stared at Barbossa wondering why was he even listening to him? Why didn't he just run there... The image flashing across his mind, before his eyes; blinding him... He should just run there, and kill him... Or at least take her away... Why was he not dragging her away at that very moment? Why was he talking with Barbossa? Why was he talking with his father's murdered instead of going on rescuing his wife- His wife... Rescuing?... Why, why was she doing this? How could she do this? _"Don't be ridiculous!" _Her voice reverberated in his head, her voice, her beautiful voice, so certain, so clear, so... sincere. And she had been looking at him unblinkingly, she had been looking him straight in the eye... No, no. It was not possible. It was a misunderstanding of some sort. A game, maybe. Weren't they (_they_) always playing some games with each other? Maybe it was meaningless, maybe it did not mean anything...

...maybe it was not happening at all...

"But he did make quite a number of smart moves", continued Barbossa, breaking Will's train of thoughts. Will looked up at him with stern, involuntary interest. "Words, gifts, gestures", he enumerated slowly, stepping closer to Will, who looked somewhere into the distance, almost not listening. Almost. "An'", Barbossa paused, and snorted. "He even let her steer the ship through a heavy storm", he said in a scratchy whisper. Will turned his head, and looked at him with annoyance; but he looked intently. "Standin' right behind 'er so she'd think she's doin' it on her own", he said with a smile, narrowing his eyes. Will averted his eyes, looking toward the stairs, trying to make himself go, just go there, and resolve it in a regular manner; in an _honest_ manner. "Some encouragin' kisses", said Barbossa hardly above whisper, the words flowing straight into Will's mind, as if he did not hear them, but rather breathed them in. "Rain-soaked hands entwined around the spokes..." Will started for the stairs, but his arm was once again caught by a strong hand. "Revenge is like wine. It needs time", a voice hissed into his ear.

Will pushed Barbossa'a hand away from his shoulder, glanced at him angrily, and took one step down the stairs. Barbossa narrowed his eyes, but soon his lips stretched into a slight sneer, when Will picked up his pistol that laid on the first step, and turned around. Barbossa snorted, and walked away. After a few steps he looked over his shoulder. Will stood motionlessly, still near the stairs, his gaze blank, irritated, and questioning at the same time.

"The other staircase", said Barbossa in a sweetish voice. "Unless ye want to walk past them", he added, grinning.

* * *

"I think I can see why we've been doing this a lot", said Elizabeth with an impish smile, reluctantly breaking the kiss. 

Jack grinned, running his hand through her hair. "There are other things we've been doing quite a lot as well", he whispered huskily into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

She blushed, suddenly feeling very awkward. And giddy. A part of her still did not acknowledge those events which had happened, and which she could not remember. She felt a strange connection, a bond, a power that he held over her, and it was enough of a proof to her that it was all true. She knew that it was true even if sometimes she had tried to convince herself otherwise. But it still felt so strange, as in her consciousness, mentally, she was still, in a way on a different level of their relationship.

"I remember that blush", muttered Jack with a smile, propping her chin with his hand, and lightly kissing her lips. Elizabeth gave him a timidly questioning look. "Our first night", he breathed against her lips, and the simple sentence almost made her fell to the floor, but his arms were holding her in a strong embrace, so she just stared at him with a very nervous facial expression, yet her eyes were glimmering madly in the dimly lit corridor.

She brought her hand to his face, and traced his jawline with her fingertips. "I think I have to go now", she said almost inaudibly, trying to collect herself, and think clearly. All of a sudden it was not so simple anymore. And she felt cold shivers running up her spine at the thought of Will standing somewhere on the deck right now, waiting for her, probably thinking about her at that very moment when she-

"You think you have to, or you want to?", asked Jack, not very pleased with the change of topic, a frown slowly forming itself on his face.

Elizabeth sighed. He was not helping. He knew she had to go yet, he was making it unnecessarily harder for her, making her feel guilty not only toward Will now, but also toward him. "How can you say that?", she asked bitterly, pulling away, but his embrace was still strong, and she could not really move. Not that she really wanted to move...

"I'm sorry", said Jack almost immediately, surprising her greatly. He looked at her with a childish grimace.

She bit her lip in order not to laugh, and hissed from pain, thoughtlessly irritating her already cut lip.

Jack winced sympathetically, and cupped the side of her face, delicately brushing his thumb across her lower lip. "It must have stung when you drank that rum too", he said, examining the cut, and glancing at her questioningly.

"Well, I don't remember if it hurt..." ..._I was too drunk... with looking at you..._

"Aye", he muttered, shifting his eyes from the cut to her eyes; to her very dark eyes.

"You promised to show me", she said all of a sudden, almost peevishly, in a low tone of voice, looking at him from under her eyelashes, her lips trembling under his rough fingertips.

Jack smirked, and brushed his lips against hers. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv. And Captain Jack Sparrow keeps his promises", he said with a complacent smile, which unfortunately faded, when Elizabeth chuckled. Jack's nose twitched. "And how am I supposed to interpret _that _reaction?", he asked with mock-indignation.

"Oh, as nothing too alarming", she said smilingly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"That sounds alarming enough", stated Jack unhappily.

"So does the idea of Captain Jack Sparrow keeping his promises", retorted Elizabeth, pressing her lips against his for a moment, and quickly drawing back with a giggle. And it crossed her mind that she could not really remember herself laughing like that... lately. It astonished her that she could laugh now. She had thought that she was through with laughing. She had thought that she would never laugh again.

"You don't really mean any of it, do you, Lizzie-darling?", Jack looked at her searchingly with a serious expression on his face, and a glimpse of mischief in his eyes, brushing her hair away from her shoulders.

She smiled at him brightly, but then frowned, and sighed. "Well. It's not like I can be very certain-"

He cut her off with a kiss, and she melted into it immediately, subconsciously parting her lips to let him turn a simple kiss into a kiss she did not even know about before. And she could no longer feel the ground under her feet. She was hovering above the floor, above the reality, above herself, holding onto his arms which promised safety, his lips which promised bliss, and his eyes which promised freedom already so long ago, at that night lit by the bonfire, and stars, and the flames in his eyes hidden under his blackened eyelids, when he had finally fell asleep on the warm, white sand, unaware of his rum being burned, and of... his lips being kissed by a beautiful rum-burner he had been stranded with.

"I kissed you", she whispered, gasping for breath, and resting her forehead against his.

"That... you did", smirked Jack, breathing raggedly.

"No", Elizabeth shook her head with a smile. "Not now... On that island... When you passed out... I kissed you...", she said, inhaling deeply between the short sentences, and closing her eyes.

"What?", Jack blinked, a trace of a disbelieving smile hovering over his lips.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and grinned. "Finally something _you_ don't remember", she said triumphantly, pulling him into another kiss.

* * *

In his cabin, Barbossa slumped into a chair behind a large table covered by books, and papers. "Ye may take a seat", he said glancing over at Will, who still stood by the open door with his hand on the knob. 

"I will not be having any dealings with you", said Will calmly, looking sternly into the distance.

He should go there. He should really go there. How could he just be standing here while...

Barbossa grimaced exaggeratedly. "Old grudges, aye? Very immature", he said sneeringly, tilting his head to the side. "An' very stupid", he added after a pause in a low, and serious tone of voice.

Will reluctantly shifted his eyes to him. "That's for me to decide", replied Will stiffly.

Barbossa chuckled. "Aye. Decisions", he said with mock-thoughtfulness, sitting back in his chair. "Decisions are like promises, Mr. Turner. Easy to make, easy to brake, easy to forget."

"Pirate promises, perhaps, yes", said Will with condescension.

"Was that an attempt t'counter my point?", asked Barbossa with a grin. "If so, ye may wish t'remind yerself that ye're joined in a holy matrimony with a Pirate King."

"The title doesn't make-", started Will haughtily.

"Not the title", cut in Barbossa, knitting his eyebrows. "It's yer decisions that make ye who ye are. Decisions, an' lies, an' broken promises. Especially broken promises, 'cause ye see, a promise that cannot be broken it's not worth makin'. So ye make a promise for the fear of breakin' it. And yet, ye still brake it."

"I don't break my promises", said Will firmly.

Barbossa sighed. "I wasn't talkin' 'bout ye", he said tiredly. "I was talkin' 'bout _pirates_."

"Elizabeth is not a pirate", stated Will quietly, angrily clutching the knob.

"Elizabeth", repeated Barbossa, squinting thoughtfully. "I almost forgot that's 'er name", he looked at Will, and smiled. "I've been hearin' only 'Lizzie' and 'love' all the time for the past few days, ye know."

Will slammed the door shut. "What do you want from me?", he shouted angrily, glaring at him.

"An' what do ye want?", asked Barbossa, his eyes beginning to glitter viciously. Will stared at him in silence. "I tell ye what ye want", he said staggering to his feet. "Ye want her. Ye want her t'love ye, still or again", he waved his hand dismissively. Will's gaze darkened. "Doesn't really matter, does it? Then, ye want to lift that curse of yers. Find Aqua de Vida, an' regain mortality t'live happily on dry land with yer dearly beloved. How wrong am I so far?", he asked with a sneer.

"I still can't see where our paths cross", said Will, suddenly noticing something, and waking slowly toward the table.

"An'", continued Barbossa. "Ye don't want _him_ on _her_", he paused, "_mind_", he finished smilingly, meeting Will's dark glare.

"So?", Will looked curiously at one of the books that laid open on the table, wrinkling his forehead, suddenly remembering... He had brought that book to show _him_, but then Elizabeth had appeared, and he had dropped the book, and forgot all about it...

"So", Barbossa sat down at the table once again, and closed the book abruptly, causing Will to dart his eyes from the book to him. "So ye may want t'sit down, and listen."

...Elizabeth... The image rushed across his mind so fast that he could hardly catch it... That day when he had found that she was aboard... She had walked out...

Slowly, he sat down, still wondering why was he not somewhere else right now.

"The Fountain of Youth", said Barbossa thoughtfully, grabbing the book, and dropping it with a thud on the table between them. "Everybody's desire", he smiled enigmatically, tapping the cover with his fingers. Will sighed, seemingly disinterested. "Ye know, Captain Turner, what's particularly troublesome 'bout desires?", asked Barbossa, pushing the book more toward Will.

Will raised his eyebrows. "I'm counting on you to tell me", he said with a sour smile.

"The trouble is that we can never fulfill our desires... on our own", said Barbossa in a hoarse whisper, turning the book upside down.

"Is there a trouble... with the Fountain of Youth?", asked Will with mild interest, glancing at the book, and looking back at Barbossa searchingly.

Barbossa smiled. "Oh, yes. There is a trouble with the Fountain of Youth. And the trouble is that you can't just drink from Aqua de Vida", he said in a low voice.

Will wrinkled his forehead. "What do you do with it, then? You inhale it?", he asked drily.

Barbossa's smile turned into a grin. "No. Ye do _drink_ it. But ye cannot drink it with yer own hands. Ye must be _given_ a drink by somebody else."

Will looked at him in silence for a moment with no expression on his face. "I don't recall reading about _that_", he said, glancing at the book.

"But I hope ye do recall a missin' page?", said Barbossa flipping the book's heavy cover open. "Or rather the missin' half..."

Will looked down at the book, at the yellowed page, at the two yellowed pieces of paper laying against each other, matching perfectly.

"I don't want to sound arrogant, but I think I can manage to find myself a person who would willingly hand me a drink", said Will sardonically, closing the book.

"Aye", smiled Barbossa. "I've no doubt 'bout that. But... the question is whether ye _want _the person who would hand ye a drink to really do that."

"And why not?" Will looked at Barbossa questioningly.

Barbossa reached for a green apple, examined it for a moment, and put it away. "'Cause that person", he looked at Will, and smiled, "will die."


	49. Chapter 49

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

...since I was asked a couple of times... No, it's not a real legend about the Fountain of Youth. Those are only my odd ideas;)

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 49**

"_What makes you think he'll act as a bartender? Voluntarily. And without suspicion."_

"_Bartender is a wrong word, Mr. Turner. It suggests quite a number of people who'd receive a drink... While it is so that a person can hand a drink to somebody else only once. One death. One life. For eternity."_

"Where have you been?" Bill Turner approached Will who stood at the stern of the _Black Pearl_, leaning over the rail, and staring out at the ocean.

"_So he can give it to only one person, and that'd be..."_

"_You, Mr. Turner. That's easier to work out than if it'd have to be me. But before ye'll be given yer share, an' drink yerself back to mortality, ye can hand somebody a drink, without losing yer life."_

Will slowly turned his head, and looked at his father blankly. "Here", he answered indifferently in a low voice, averting his eyes.

"_Somebody... You, that is?"_

"_Since ye'll be mortal again, ye shouldn't have any desire to grant immortality to Mrs. Turner, I suppose."_

"_And the rest of the crew?"_

"I was here a moment ago", replied Bill Turner with a small, confused smile. After that morning's unfortunate incident, ha had gone to the _Flying Dutchman_ to make sure that everything was all right, leaving Will to wait for Elizabeth. But when he had come back from the _Dutchman_ there was no Will in sight. He had searched the ship to no avail, and he had been at the stern as well.

"_Ye can tell them the truth at that point, if ye want. That is... pretend that ye just figured it out. Or ye can just amuse yerself with watchin' who'll live, an' who'll die."_

"I wandered around", answered Will, still looking at the sea, absent-mindedly scratching the rail with his fingernails.

"_There is no deal yet. I didn't say I'll do any of it."_

"_Of course. And also this conversation has ne'er taken place."_

"Ah." Bill Turner looked at his son thoughtfully for a moment. "I see."

* * *

"Jack!" whispered Elizabeth, surprised. "What are you doing?", she asked, baffled, when Jack pulled her back from the corridor toward the Captain's Quarters. 

She really thought that it was high time to go before they could get in trouble again. Before Will could get suspicious... again. She felt a cold twinge of guilt at the sound of his name, even if the sound was only imaginary, even if it was only hollowly echoing in her mind... His name, and his face, and the image of him – waiting; believing; trusting her. It was almost cynical, thinking now about not raising his suspicions. As if it was the only thing that mattered. As if he was merely an obstacle. As if she had not spent the better part of her life thinking about him, back in Port Royal, imagining their life together... She tried to remember how it all had started... On that day when they had rescued him? And why it had started? It could not be only because he had that medallion... A pirate medallion... Maybe at first... Maybe at first it was because of that, as all of a sudden all her dreams had appeared right in front of her at that moment when he was brought aboard. He was a personification of her dreams. He had carried a mystery about him (a pirate mystery), and he was miraculously saved from a burning ship in the middle of the ocean... On that day she had felt as if she entered a book. One of her adventurous novels. And there she was. Caught in between the reality, and the make-believe. And it so had happened that the connection between those two worlds had had, at that time, the face of William Turner.

"Jack-" She started, but both her words and thoughts crashed under Jack's lips crashing against hers.

He held her close, his hands roaming around her body, leaving a trail of shivers everywhere they touched, burning her skin even though there was still a layer of fabric in between... And for once she was grateful for that, or else she could not be able to even think about being reasonable, and telling him to stop...

...not that she tried to stop him... but she was at least thinking about it... having an intention to think about it... wanting to have an intention to think about it...

His hand travelled up her back, until his fingers tangled in her hair, his sharp-edged rings accidentally pulling single strands of her hair almost painfully, but she did not care. It almost scared her that the pain he might inflict on her was never really painful... Whatever he was doing it never hurt, even if it did... Maybe partly because she trusted him so completely... And she knew he could never hurt her in any way...

"Jack", she gasped, slipping her hand under his shirt. "I have to... go", she whispered almost inaudibly, drawing her trembling hand across his skin, and shaking at the sound of her own name muttered in a low, husky voice. Her name, and...

She leaned back, and looked at him with a hesitant smile, her eyes dark, and hazy. "What did you say, Jack?", she asked, cupping the side of his face with her hand.

His eyes opened very slowly, and he gave her a small, roguish smile. "I said... 'Lizzie'", he leaned down, and kissed her softly on the lips. A faint frown appeared on Elizabeth's face, and Jack drew back looking at her with amusement for a moment, before he leaned down again, and brushed the side of her face with the back of his hand. "Lizzie... I love you", he whispered, looking her deeply in the eyes.

The frown dispersed at an instant. She smiled, snuggled her face into his chest, and whispered: "I love you too."

And the world was flawless.

For a while.

* * *

"I'm sorry", said Bill Turner quietly after a pause. 

Will, still deep in thought, gave him a blank look. "For what?", he asked tiredly, slightly wrinkling his forehead.

"For yesterday", "Bootstrap" smiled weakly. "I shouldn't have drunk, I just-"

"It's all right", cut in Will in a dismissive tone of voice, looking at his father intensely for a moment, and then averting his eyes.

The glimpse of strange sadness, and resignation in Will's eyes struck Bill. And not only sadness, but something else as well, something that he could not quite place, something unusual, foreign, as if.

"I'm back."

Will shivered involuntarily at the sound of her voice. He was almost afraid to turn around, and look at her.

How long could it be? A quarter of an hour? An hour? He did not know. He did not want to know. He did not want to know for how long she was there, with _him_.

Yet, he quickly recounted to himself his conversation with Barbossa, trying to estimate how much time it could have lasted. How much time she-

"How do you feel?" Will interrupted his own train of thoughts, and turned around to face her, his voice strangely hollow, with only faint hints of anger, and sadness.

"I'm fine", replied Elizabeth with a small smile, and only after answering Will's question she remembered why he had asked it. The headache. She was supposed to have a headache. And she actually had had a headache, but now it was gone... even without the acupuncture...

Will did not say anything. He just looked at her. He looked at her intensely, and there was something that worried her about his gaze. Was he suspecting something after all?

She did not want to think about the future just yet. Or rather her thinking about the future was limited to hoping that they will reach the Fountain of Youth soon, and Will will be freed from his curse, and then they will be able to talk, and she will not have to feel responsible for his life anymore, she also will be freed, freed from that burden that weighed heavily on her shoulders.

He looked at her, he stared at her trying to be angry with her, trying to be mad at her, imagining himself to be furious, yet the only thought that came to his mind was how beautiful she looked in that green dress, and with her hair falling in loose, slightly ruffled locks over her shoulders...

His wife. _My wife._ The phrase comforted him if only a little. She was his wife. She was with him. She belonged to him. She belonged with him. He went on, repeating endlessly similar phrases, each repetition gradually causing the pain to ebb, until it was gone almost completely. And his mind quietened at the thought of taking her away right now, for some time at least, so they could be together, and perhaps he would be able to figure out what (and if something at all) was going on, between her, and... And with every passing moment that scene that he had seen seemed less, and less real. And if somebody told him now that it had never happened, he would probably easily believe him. Easily, and gladly. And desperately.

"Can we go on the _Flying Dutchman_ now?", asked Will almost casually, but there was certain impatience, exhaustion in his voice that did not escape Elizabeth's notice.

But perhaps he was just still upset about that incident in the morning...

Elizabeth nodded, and wanted to smile, but then all of a sudden a thought crossed her mind. Her eyes widened, and she felt cold shivers running down her spine. How could she missed that? How could she forget about that? How come she did not think about that earlier?

The _Flying Dutchman_. Will, Will's life, Will's heart. The chest.

The key.

_Where is the key?_

* * *

Jack draped his coat around his shoulders, put on his hat, and swaggered in a surprisingly cheerful manner to the helm. He missed that thrill of excitement, which usually accompanied him when standing at the helm. And now that thrill was back. 

Well, not only the thrill.

Jack took over the helm, noticing the inevitable silhouette of the _Flying Dutchman _sailing near the _Pearl. _He could not see anybody, so he assumed that Elizabeth, and... that they had gone aboard already.

Needless to say, he did not like that situation at all. It just annoyed him to no end, thinking of her being away. Even if only for a while. Even if it was necessary. But even a while was too long, too unnecessarily long for her to be somewhere else than aboard the _Black Pearl_, or in his cabin, for that matter.

He snorted to himself, finding it half-astonishing, and half-amusing that he would actually gladly lock her there... So much for his understanding of an every human being's desire to be free. He smiled to himself. Of course he would never lock her anywhere... unless it would be for her safety under some extraordinary circumstances...

Was the _Flying Dutchman_ an extraordinary circumstance?... Jack sighed. There was nothing to worry about. Yet... She should be here. She really should be here. On the _Black Pearl._ With him.

* * *

"Pack?" Will raised his eyebrows, and looked at Elizabeth with scepticism, which made her feel very cold. 

And it was something new. That coldness in his gaze, although it was not very explicit, but she still felt it, nonetheless. And it was her fault. She was the source of that coldness coming from his eyes. Or maybe it was not coldness, but some kind of mistrust, and that interpretation was even worse.

"Yes. I thought I'd take some clothes, and my other belongings on the _Dutchman_", explained Elizabeth as calmly as she could in the most natural, indifferent tone of voice. But inside her head she was screaming with impatience, just wishing to be in that cabin of hers, so she could searched it for the key. It must be somewhere there. She was even sure that she caught a glimpse of her coat when she was there... And she remembered putting the key to her coat pocket before coming to Tortuga. So it should be there. There was no reason for it to not be there, but she just wanted to go to that cabin, and get it, and stop worrying- But there was nothing to worry about. It was there. And it was only a matter of minutes that she would find it. It certainly was in that pocket. She should not panic. "I have everything on the _Black Pearl_, so I just thought-"

"All right. Of course, Elizabeth", agreed Will so quickly that it almost surprised Elizabeth. "How much time do you need to pack? Do you need help?", he asked, and for a moment the coldness was absent from his voice.

She wanted to pack. She wanted to move her belonging to the _Dutchman_. Will could hardly keep from smiling. Maybe it was just a goodbye... Nothing, really. And that was his initial thought, that it was nothing, and so he was right... But then it was Barbossa, and all that he had told him... About them... Still, it could have been a goodbye. He will not ponder it any longer. Meaningless. A meaningless incident. Nothing more.

"No, I'll be fine. I just need... an hour, maybe", she said, fearing to come up with some strange amount of time, although she regretted saying that she needed only an hour... If she said she needed three hours, then she could just get the key, pack several dresses to justify her excuse, and spend the remaining time with Jack... But it was too late now, and she had an hour only.

"I will be back in an hour, then", said Will, managing to smile faintly for the first time since the beginning of the conversation.

Elizabeth could not help but smile. So at least they were going to be alone on the _Pearl_...

But it was beyond the point now. Firstly, and most importantly, she had to retrieve the key.

* * *

Elizabeth ran into her cabin, and began searching it with feverish impatience. She looked into the trunks, the armoire, the drawers, the cabinets... In one of the trunks she finally found her coat. The only thing among all those things (and she kept forgetting to ask Jack about them) which she actually remembered. She smiled nervously at the sight of the coat, grabbed it, and slipped her hand into the pocket... And then the other one... 

Nothing.

She froze, and threw the coat over a chair, pushing her hair away from her face in a frustrated gesture. Quickly, she continued her search, going through all the pieces of furniture in the cabin. She checked every drawer, every shelf, every box. She checked everywhere. Finally, she decided to go, and find Jack, and ask him. Maybe he knew... Somehow... He must know. She did not even want to think that he might not know. And what if she had lost it?... No, no. She pushed all the grim thoughts away. She could not have lost it. But what if it slipped out of her pocket in Tortuga? No, she did not even want to think about that.

Elizabeth stormed off her cabin, and went to the Captain's Quarters, but Jack was not there. She ran out of the cabin, and headed for the stairs thinking that he must be at the helm.

"Is anything wrong?" A husky voice stopped her in her tracks when she was rushing across the corridor, paying no attention to her surroundings.

She spun around, although she knew already who it was. "No, I'm all right. Thank you", she answered quickly, but before she even turned around he spoke again.

"D'ye perhaps wish to talk to me, Mrs. Turner?", asked Barbossa narrowing his eyes in a smile, standing in the doorway, one foot in the corridor, one foot in his cabin.

Elizabeth shot him a funny look. "No, I don't think so. And I'm actually in a hurry", she said with an artificial half-smile, starting to quickly walk away, but then she was suddenly stopped once again.

"Perhaps ye're lookin' for somethin'?"

Elizabeth froze, an abstract wave of fear washing over her. She slowly turned around, keeping her face blank, and her eyes unreadable. She wanted to tell him that it was none of his-

But when she turned around, and faced him, the words left her, and her eyes widened, caught off guard by the unexpected sight.

"This, perhaps?", asked Barbossa with pretended hesitation in his voice, his lips stretching slowly into a grin, as he held the key between his fingers up in the air, on the level of his narrowed, yellowed eyes.

Elizabeth just stared at key, trying to figure out how _that_ could have ever happened.

"So I guess ye might wish to talk to me, after all", said Barbossa in a low voice, grinning.


	50. Chapter 50

A/N: _**My wonderful readers & reviewers: thank you so much for your beautiful reviews!**_

...50th chapter! I feel like celebrating:) So let us imagine we're celebrating... confetti... balloons... champagne... Good. Now, that everybody is in that wonderful, celebrating, cheerful mood, I can tell you that... hiatus!!!! Oh no, no. That was nasty lol I apologize;) No, no. NO hiatus. Just kidding (though you probably didn't find it funny...). No, it's not that bad. (That bad, mind you.) But it's not too good either... All right. The point is: my school starts very soon! It had to happen... (It happens every year, actually... Funny, isn't it?... Right.) So. What I'm trying to say is (A/Ns don't have word limits, do they?) that I won't be able to update every other day anymore... But I will keep updating as often as it will be possible, however as far as promises are concerned, I can only guarantee an update once a week. Any "additional" updates may appear from time to time, but... Well, you know how it is with school & all. So please be patient with me from this moment on:) Thank you so much for reading:)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 50**

"Fine day, that is", said Gibbs in a loud voice, walking up to the helm. Jack glanced at him blankly over his shoulder. "The mast has been fixed", continued Gibbs in a slightly hesitant tone of voice, watching Jack's profile intently. "We're makin' good time, as it seems", he cleared his throat. "Soon we reach the Ghost Sea, and then the immortality will be just a few days ahead of us, aye?" he said in an artificially happy tone of voice. Jack kept silent looking straight ahead. Gibbs looked around in search of more ideas. "The _Flying Dutchman _is-"

He stopped in mid-sentence under Jack's expectant gaze, oblivious to a glimpse of amusement flashing in his eyes. "Is what?", asked Jack sharply, squinting.

Gibbs smiled nervously, not really knowing what he had wanted to say. "Is", he started, narrowing his eye, "going to", he grimaced, but his face suddenly lit up. "Is going to submerge again soon, I think", he finished almost cheerfully, relieved to find a fine, even if not entirely correct conclusion to his random remark.

Jack looked at him in silence for a moment, before pulling a ring of keys from his coat pocket, and tossing it to Gibbs with a smile. "Ye make even less sense when ye're sober, mate."

"Aye!", exclaimed Gibbs happily, heading for the stairs.

* * *

Elizabeth stood motionlessly for a while, watching Barbossa disappear inside his cabin, and leave his door open. 

Her mind was racing, thoughts were swirling around in her head, as she was trying to make sense of the situation. _How did he get the key? How could he possibly get the key? How? When? _

_Why?_

She briefly considered going to find Jack first. Did he know that Barbossa had the key? No, it was impossible... But... No. He would have told her... Wouldn't he? She could at least go ask him first... Or ask him to go to Barbossa with her... No. What a superfluous idea. She does not need any assistance. She is the Pirate King. She can handle this alone. She does not need any help. As the Pirate King she is perfectly capable of dealing with one annoying, mutinous pirate on her own.

Inhaling deeply, she entered the cabin, and walked straight to Barbossa, who stood by the table.

"Now I would like to have my key back", she said flatly, nonchalantly extending her open palm toward him.

Barbossa chuckled. "A very poorly thought-out strategy, I'm afraid. Yet, it seems oddly familiar", he said sneeringly. "Ye really shouldn't be spendin' so much time with 'im, ye know."

Elizabeth closed her hand into a fist, and drew it back abruptly. "I can just tell Will that you have it", she said sternly, looking at him intently.

"Aye, indeed. A duel with an immortal ain't sound too appealin'", said Barbossa, turning the key in his hand. He looked at the key, and then at Elizabeth. "Neither sounds bein' caught cheatin' by said immortal", he said, squinting.

"I'm sure he will consider you the most trustworthy source of information", replied Elizabeth through her gritted teeth, with a trace of a sneer flickering across her lips.

Barbossa smiled. "Ye might be actually surprised. Love does strange things to people. Jealousy - even stranger."

"You don't even know where the chest is", observed Elizabeth drily.

"But ye do", retorted Barbossa with a smile, pocketing the key.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Should I repeat what I just said?"

"There is no need for such harshness", said Barbossa gesturing to her to sit down, but she did not move. "I thought we got along quite well", he said slumping down into a chair. "Since that journey, since I helped to fetch back that lover of yers-"

"For purely altruistic reasons, I imagine", cut in Elizabeth sharply.

"Reasons are ne'er altruistic, Mrs. Turner", said Barbossa darkly. "Oh, I'm sorry", he chuckled. "It seems that ye don't fancy the name, anymore", he grinned.

"What do you want with the key?", asked Elizabeth calmly, ignoring his comment.

"Straight to the point, then. Very well", said Barbossa tilting his head to the side, and looking at her for a moment in silence.

She really was beautiful. With those fiery honey-brown eyes, and gold-brown, long hair falling over the ivory-white shoulders she looked more like a fairytale creature than a real woman, yet she was real. And she was spending her nights with that bloody idiot, who surely did not know how to handle her properly. What a waste.

"I see no point in silence", said Elizabeth irritably. _What is he staring at?_

"Would ye like t'live forever, Mrs. Tu-", he paused, and grimaced. "How should I address ye? I wouldn't wish to upset ye by usin' that seemingly invalid title all the time, ye know", he smiled, looking at her questioningly.

"I suppose 'Your Highness' would be fairly appropriate", answered Elizabeth with a small smirk, not failing to notice a glimpse of irritation that for a brief moment appeared in his eyes.

Barbossa snorted slightly. "There's quite a number of issues to be discussed, so perhaps _Your Highness_ would like to take a seat, after all", he said with a grin.

* * *

"Jack!", Gibbs approached the helm, breathing heavily from running. 

Jack looked him up and down. "Don't even tell me there's no more rum", he said with a hint of a threat in his voice.

Gibbs blinked, but after a short pause waved his hand dismissively. "That's not it. I wasn't in the cellar yet. Come with me. Quick."

* * *

Will stood at the bow of the _Flying Dutchman _staring absently into the distance. He could not take the helm right now, he could not focus on anything apart from all those haunting (and haunted...) thoughts which tried to make their way to his mind. He did not know what to do. The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. 

The more helpless he felt. The more lost. He tortured himself with reenacting _those _scenes in his head. It was almost unbearable, yet he needed to analyze every detail in order to understand, to decide... Even though he could not understand.

Could he decide?

He leaned over the rail, burying his head in his hands. Why did it have to happen? Why did she do that? After all they had been through, now that they were so close to leaving all those painful memories behind, now that they were so close to getting a new chance...

Did she really do that? Maybe it was not her fault. Maybe _he_ kissed her. And yet he could not get that image out of his head. And the image was devastatingly clear. He saw her. He saw her leaning into _him_, and kissing _him_, and she seemed so lost in that kiss... Was she ever that lost kissing him?

And then, there was also _that _week. That one scene that he saw multiplied, repeated, who knows how many times... Some storm... He could almost see in his mind's eye those images of her at the helm, and _his_ arms around her... How did _he _dare to steel it? It was his and Elizabeth's memory. The storm. Their storm. Their wedding. Will clutched the rail, his knuckles whitening. _What did he do to her? Even she did not remember now... If she really did not remember..._

Will rested his head on his elbows, and looked at the ocean. Maybe he should just ask her, just talk to her, tell her that he saw... and see what she would say. Would she deny it? Would she apologize? But he was afraid to confront her about it. He was afraid that she would neither deny nor apologize. He was afraid that she would say something that would shatter him, destroy him, kill him, even, for he could not imagine his life without her. He loved her. And despite that pain that he was going through right now he could not make himself love her any less. Love less. He snorted. He could not even be really angry with her. Although he tried. He had tried after the Kraken had taken down the _Black Pearl_. And he tried now. But to no avail. He looked at the image of her shimmering in his imagination, and all he could think of was that he loved, and he loved her more with every passing moment, as if hoping that his love would engulf her like the wind, like the sea (that sea that she liked so much), and then she would surrender, and forget about everything else but their feelings for each other.

And he was his wife. It was something stable, something safe, something permanent to hold on to. She had married him. And she did love him. Why else would she had married him? And she had killed Jack to rescue him. She had kissed Jack only to rescue him. As painfully ridiculous as it sounded...

But now... What was she doing that for right now?

But it still did not really mean anything, did it? Maybe he should just ignore it. Pretend that it had never happened.

And the Fountain of Youth... There was still time to think about it... Now, the most important thing was to have Elizabeth back on the _Flying Dutchman_, so they would be able to talk. At last, and without interruptions.

Will pushed himself away from the rail.

Was it already an hour later?

* * *

Elizabeth did not want to sit down, but then a thought crossed her mind that if she sat down she could take a closer look at all the papers scattered on the table. Chances were slim, although it was not entirely impossible that among all those books, and maps was also_ the _chart. If she would get it... _Oh, of course_, she snapped angrily to herself, _I don't even have the key back, and I'm already planning other fancy acquisitions. _

"So... would ye?", asked Barbossa looking at her intently. "Would ye like to live forever?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "How did you get the key?", she asked calmly, but then thought that perhaps it was not such a good idea. Maybe she should pretend that she did not care? Then again he probably knew that she did care, so...

A trace of a contented smile flickered across his face, and it alerted Elizabeth. He was up to something. _Of course he is up to something. He's always up to something. You're just so bright, Lizzie, aren't you?_

_Did I just call myself 'Lizzie'? _She thought, suppressing a smile.

"I reckon ye may guess how, that is, _from whom_ I got it." Barbossa's voice shook her out of her thoughts, and she quickly tried to concentrate.

Although it amused her greatly that she just could not stop thinking about Jack... It should annoy her, perhaps, because it was something she could not control, and she generally disliked everything that she could not control (apart from the sea, of course), however that feeling was different. It felt so sweet to be haunted by those thoughts, by his dark eyes, by the taste of his lips, by the sound of his voice...

"I'm afraid I may not", said Elizabeth blankly.

"Take a guess." Barbossa sat back in his chair, smiling sweetishly.

Elizabeth looked around the table disinterestedly, absent-mindedly, as if, before looking up at him again. "It's not true", she said simply in a low, but firm tone of voice, looking him straight in the eye.

Barbossa's face twitched, her remark catching him slightly off guard, but he nevertheless managed to snarl, and raise his eyebrows without delay. "I'm afraid it is", he objected laconically, deciding that a simple objection will be more plausible than an urgent reassurance.

"He wouldn't do that", stated Elizabeth with a hint of annoyance in her voice. He did not want to believe that Jack could have given him the key. Why would he do that? He would not have done it. He would not have put Will's life in danger just like that. It was not like him. He was a good man...

But then again there were those several arguable cases when it could have been argued that he, in fact, had put Will's life in danger...

Barbossa squinted, rather annoyed himself, annoyed with her _romantic _attitude, and with her dismissal of the point that he had not even really managed to make yet. And what annoyed him most was not the fact that she was in love with Jack Sparrow. He was not envious of love. Love was a waste of time, and mental energy. Love was distractive, and destructive. It caused people to lose battles, and wars, to lose their minds, to miss chances, to give up opportunities, to resign prizes, to retreat, to give in, to die. So it was not love that irritated him in her gaze most. What irritated him was her respect for that man, her unshakable faith in him, her absolute, internal, infuriating conviction that Jack Sparrow was a better man, and, most importantly, a better captain than he could have ever been; and that she thought him, God knows why, more clever, more skilled, and more wise tan everybody else.

And he could see all those convictions glimmering in her eyes at the moment.

"I wouldn't be so sure", he said sneeringly.

"Well, I would", retorted Elizabeth just to annoy him. She was not so sure herself...

"Perhaps ye're also sure that he told ye everythin' 'bout the Fountain of Youth?", he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Perhaps", replied Elizabeth unsmilingly.

"Perhaps he mentioned that there's a certain", he paused, "limit set upon the Aqua de Vida..."

"Limit?", echoed Elizabeth, inconsiderately giving away her unawareness. She bit her lip, annoyed with herself, hurting her injured lip, which annoyed her even more.

Barbossa gave her a sweetish smile. "Aye. The limit. Only three people in every hundred years can drink the water from the Fountain", he explained, looking at her searchingly. Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. "So as ye see", he grinned, "there's just too many of us."

Elizabeth stared at him, perplexed. It never crossed her mind before that there may be some problems once they reach the Fountain. She thought that it will be then, when all their problems will actually end. But apparently, they were only about to begin...

"As for the key", continued Barbossa satisfied with her reaction, and the bewilderment that appeared on her face. "My price is very low", he said coyly. Elizabeth shot him a grim look. He smiled. "_Your Highness_."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue, but he kept silent, and just looked at her. She blinked, suddenly struck by an idea.

"My title?", she asked incredulously in an irritated tone of voice.

Barbossa chuckled. "As I said before, ye spend decidedly too much time with 'im", he smiled briefly. "It's not _your_ title, Mrs. Turner. It's a general title, and people who hold it are a perpetual subject to change."

"The Brethren chooses the King", said Elizabeth stiffly, glaring at him. "I can resign the title, but I cannot pass it on anybody."

"There's no need for passin'", said Barbossa with a grimace. "If ye call the meetin', an' resign, ye'll still be a Pirate Lord who can cast a vote, aye?"

Elizabeth snorted. "And if I say no?", she asked, pronouncing the no very distinctly. It crossed her mind that she should not perhaps argue at that point. After all the price was indeed not very high, especially considering what was there at stake. Will's life was at stake, and it was undoubtedly more important that some title (_my _title). She felt suddenly very guilty hesitating. How could she hesitate?! The choice was obvious, and simple, and there was nothing to think about. Almost nothing...

"Then I'll keep the key", answered Barbossa with a smile. Elizabeth smiled sourly, and rose to her feet. "An' think what to do with it next", he added, looking at her intently.

Elizabeth stared at him steadily for a moment, and then walked out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind her.

"Bloody traitorous mutinous idiot", she whispered angrily through her gritted teeth.

"I agree."

She spun around, surprised, but the surprised look quickly changed into a furious one. Jack was leaning against the wall, with a small smile on his face.

"What are you doing here?", she asked irritatedly.

"Same question", smirked Jack, but seeing Elizabeth's not particularly friendly facial expression, decided to continue. "Gibbs saw you walking in, luv. Thought you may need rescuing-"

He broke off when she all of a sudden grabbed him by his coat sleeve, and dragged him to her cabin. "I like where this is going", Jack flashed her an impish smile, when she slammed her cabin's door shut, and pressed him against the wall.

"How did he get the key?", asked Elizabeth in a very angry tone of voice. Jack's smile disappeared, and he grimaced putting on a childishly hurt facial expression. "How did he get the key!", shouted Elizabeth, shaking him slightly, her hands clutching the fabric of his coat.

"It's a funny story really-", she started, gesticulating.

"Jack!", she cut him off, her eyes ablaze. He blinked, and grimaced. "Did you give it to him?", she asked quietly staring at him searchingly.

His eyes widened. "No", he said in a very serious, almost angry tone of voice, knitting his eyebrows in indignation.

Elizabeth shivered slightly. Of course he had not do it. She did not really believe he had, but she just wanted him to confirm that he hadn't. His angry tone made her anger falter a little. Also there was something enticing about him being angry... _Oh, stop it_, she scoffed herself with annoyance.

But he must have noticed that moment of weakness, because he smirked, and taking advantage of her brief distraction, leaned forward, and kissed her softly on the lips. The kiss shook her out of her thoughts. She squinted irritatedly. "How did he get the key?", she repeated, trying to keep her voice as cold as possible.

Jack sighed. "He found it", he said tiredly. "By an unfortunately unforeseeable accident."

"Oh", acknowledged Elizabeth with a small sneer. Jack looked at her with infantile sadness. "That's it, then?", she asked impatiently. "That's all you have to say to me about that?!"

Jack winced, and nodded. Elizabeth glared at him, not really knowing what to say next. The man was infuriating. And his eyes were even more infuriating. And endearing, and enchanting, and-

All of a sudden he caught her in his arms, spun her around, and pinned her against the wall, overturning the situation. "Much better", he whispered with a smirk, leaning to kiss her, but she stopped him by putting her hand over his mouth.

"Is this true that only three people will be able to drink from the Fountain?", asked Elizabeth matter-of-factly, taking her hand off his lips, and trying to ignore the warm shivers running up and down her entire body.

Jack closed his eyes, and sighed. Elizabeth gasped disbelievingly. "And you've never told me that either!", she exclaimed, frowning.

Jack opened his eyes, and was about to say that she had not asked, but seeing the expression on her face decided to skip that excuse. "Three is a perfectly fine number, luv", he assured her with a complacent smile.

"Is it", she said angrily, although it was very difficult to be angry with him when he was so close, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, and every word he spoke made her feel as if she was about to faint.

"You, me, and...", he paused, and grimaced disgustedly, making an abstract gesture with his hand. Elizabeth hit him lightly on the shoulder. Jack cleared his throat. "Aye. So that makes three, doesn't it?"

"And your crew knows it?" Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"More or less", he replied after a moment of consideration, cupping the side of her face with his hand, but she pushed his hand away. He winced sadly.

"And I'm sure Barbossa wholeheartedly agrees with your choice of those three fortunate people?", asked Elizabeth with a sweet, artificial smile.

Jack tilted back his head, and wrinkled his forehead. "He's a chartman. A captain does not consult his decisions with chartpeople, luv." He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, but she brushed his hand away with irritation.

"This is madness", said Elizabeth in a low tone of voice, looking away. "What if he tries to...", she looked back at Jack. "I'm sure he's plotting to kill you already."

Jack smiled, leaning closer. "Worryin' 'bout dear ol' Jack, are ye, luv?", he whispered, planting soft kisses along her lips.

Elizabeth's eyes fluttered shut. "Jack, stop", she pouted, raising her hands to rest on his shoulders. "This is serious", she opened her eyes, and looked at him as seriously as she could. Do you know what he wants in exchange for the key?"

The question brought a smirk on Jack's face. "Aye. This is undoubtedly the most unarguably unfulfillable condition that I have ever heard about before", he said with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

Elizabeth blinked. "You were eavesdropping?", she asked, this time ignoring the fact that he was twirling a strand of her hair around his finger again.

"A captain on his own ship doesn't eavesdrop, Lizzie. A captain on his own ship _hears_", he explained patiently, brushing his lips against hers.

"So what did you _hear_?", she asked quietly, her eyes fixed on his lips.

"Everything", he whispered, resting his hands on her hips.

"And?", she asked under her breath.

"And I think you can't do that. You can't do that to your voters, Your Majesty."

She could feel him smiling against her neck, and she herself smiled too, tilting her head to the side. "I'd rather not to", she admitted unhappily, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly.

"You do have my understanding, darling", he whispered into her ear, closing her in an embrace.

"So how do we get it back?", pouted Elizabeth, turning her head to look at him.

"Luv", he looked at her, and smiled roguishly. "I'm Captain Ja-"

"Elizabeth?", a voice called from the other side of the door, accompanied by knocking.

Jack and Elizabeth darted their eyes to the door.

"I'm not packed", whispered Elizabeth, her eyes widening.

"Packed?" mouthed Jack, blinking.

Elizabeth slipped out of his embrace, and pulled him towards the wardrobe. She opened the wardrobe door, and pushed him inside.

"That's not very original, luv", complained Jack quietly with a grimace, but Elizabeth's only response was slamming the wardrobe door shut right in front of his face. "Oi", muttered Jack, not very pleased with the change of scenery, and the sudden darkness around him.

Elizabeth quickly stepped to the door, and opened it with a smile.

"Are you ready, Elizabeth?", asked Will, walking in.

"Yes, yes", said Elizabeth inconsiderately, glancing at the wardrobe.

Will looked around the room, slightly baffled by its condition. There were some clothes, and other items scattered on the floor (results of Elizabeth's search for the key.) "Which one?" asked Will, looking at the trunks.

"Which one", echoed Elizabeth looking at him blankly.

"Which trunk", he said with a smile.

"Oh", she smiled, looking at the trunks with hesitation. She did not really remember what was in which, but- "This one", she said pointing to a random trunk.

Will bent down, picked up the trunk, and headed for the door. Elizabeth followed him, but when they were already in the corridor, she said that she wanted to take one more thing, and she quickly ran into the cabin, got to the wardrobe, opened the door, and pulled Jack into a long kiss. Then she closed the wardrobe, grabbed the silver brush, and stormed off the cabin.

"That was quite original", said Jack, smirking to himself, and pushing the wardrobe door open, or rather _trying_ to push the wardrobe door open... unsuccessfully... "Should've fixed that door", he muttered, kicking the door... punching the door... all to no avail. _That's even more original_, he thought with grim amusement. _Bugger_.


	51. Chapter 51

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 51**

"Close your eyes", said Will with a smile, putting the trunk down in the corridor, and taking Elizabeth's hand in his.

That corridors on the _Flying Dutchman _were darker than those on the _Black Pearl _was Elizabeth's first thought when they had walked below deck. And now they were standing before the Captain's Quarters' door, and she just could not stop thinking that there was something _dark _about the entire situation. She felt strangely anxious. She felt sad. And having her hand closed in Will's was not making her feel any better. There was a time when it had been making her feel safe, and happy... And she tried to recall that feeling, but to no avail. It was gone. All that was left was a mere memory, deprived of emotions, an image, a painting, a beautiful painting even, perhaps, but nothing more, nothing... alive; only dead scenes from the past which she could reenact in her imagination, but they carried no feelings, no emotions, no sensations, no nothing. She stood transfixed, and terrified feeling as if she was falling into an abyss, and there was nothing to hold on to. And his hand... His hand was not helping, because it was dragging her down that abyss somehow, even though all he had ever done was trying to help her, rescue her, save her... And now he was killing her, and he did not even know that...

And she was not going to tell him. He did not deserve to feel shattered, only because she felt... nothing.

"All right", said Elizabeth, forcing a smile.

Will motioned her gently to step aside, then opened his cabin's door, and led Elizabeth inside the _Flying Dutchman's _Captain's Quarters. He came back to the corridor, and bent down to lift the trunk, which he placed by the wall in the cabin. Then he closed the door, and looked at Elizabeth who stood motionlessly in the middle of the room. She looked stunning. Her appearance was slightly dishevelled, her hair rather ruffled, but for him she looked perfect, beautiful, as always. Why was he even worrying? She was there, with him, she wanted to be, she even had taken that trunk to feel more like at home. Although that ship was no home at all... But for the time being it was their place to live, to be together until... He was still afraid to think about the Fountain of Youth, even though it was becoming more and more real with every minute, and Barbossa's revelation about the Fountain made it even more real... But he did not want to think about it too much. Right now they could be together, and that moment was all that mattered.

"Now you can open your eyes, Elizabeth", he whispered into her ear, and she shivered, and he smiled, misinterpreting her reaction.

A small, nervous wrinkle formed on her forehead. She did not want to hurt him. He did not deserve to suffer after all he had done (and lost...) for her. But even though she could not stand his closeness at the moment (at the moment?... Anymore...), she wanted to avoid anything that might hurt him, and pushing him away would certainly hurt him, so she hoped, and prayed that he will not try to do anything... stupid. The thought cheered her up if only slightly. She almost chuckled to herself. _Jack. _The name, the sound of his name, even a silent sound was soothing... And for a brief second she had an impression that she had had similar thoughts before... When could that be? It must have been during those days that she did not remember...

"_There is no before." _

Those days...

"_You are this sea... You are this night, and this wind, and the stars... And the tomorrow's sunrise, 'Lizbeth."_

Keeping her eyelids shut, she felt as if some images, and sounds were flowing to her; were flowing _back _to her... And all of a sudden she saw flashes, short scenes, broken moments rushing across her mind, and she desperately tried to catch those shreds of the past, the shreds of her memory...

"_Promise me... you won't forget... that I love you..."_

Her memory...

"_We'll go everywhere, and I'll show you everything, and we'll get you all the beautiful things from all over the world."_

Her memories...

"_I love you, 'Lizbeth. I just love you. I've always loved you, and I had lost you once... No, not once... Many times... And that time, this time, I just decided not to lose you. I-"_

"Elizabeth, you can open your eyes right now", repeated Will with a small smile, looking at her curiously. She seemed to be dreaming, she seemed as if she was asleep, but she could not be asleep in the standing position, could she?

Elizabeth reluctantly opened her eyes. She managed to look at him, and returned his smile, even though she was very much upset that he interrupted her... what was it? A dream? A memory? Was it real? Could it be real? Could something that beautiful be real? That feeling... So light... No. So strong. So strong, but... it was making her feel light, and carefree, and... innocent.

"Will", she said surprised in a quiet tone of voice, suddenly noticing her surroundings.

The cabin was decorated with... maybe not exactly flowers, but some kind of colorful plants nonetheless. In the middle of the cabin stood a small, round table covered with a white cloth, and the table was set for a meal. In between two sets of plates stood a gold candlestick. Three white candles were already burning, filling the cabin with strange kind of light.

Candles...

"_When you laid unconscious after that accident in Tortuga... I was thinking of what would've happened if we'd met earlier... before..."_

"That's very... beautiful", said Elizabeth smiling at Will as brightly as she could, her thoughts revolving around those images that flitted across her mind, leaving her breathless. It was almost as if those memories were not hers... Not because she did not believe that they were hers. She knew, she_ felt_ that they were... But because in those memories... because she had an impression that in those memories she was... a different person. _I was a different person. I did not remember who I was... Or rather... I was whom I forgot to be..._

And for the first time, for the first time since it all had started, since she had regained her past it appeared to her that the time when she had not remember that past must have been the most wonderful experience of her life. She had been haunted by nothing. She had been worried about nothing. She had not needed to feel guilty, gloomy, responsible, lonely... Lonely. _"I love you, Lizzie." _Lonely, not at all. And she was free. For those several days she really was free. And all of a sudden she missed that. A strangling feeling of regret overwhelmed her, taking her by surprise. _You lied to me? Oh, God, Jack. You made me feel transparent, you made me feel free, you made me feel... me, but without the burden to be me..._

"You shouldn't have", said Elizabeth with a small smile, walking around the room, trying to appreciate his efforts, trying to show him that she liked the flowers, and that she liked the candles, and that she liked... him. _Oh, _y_ou like your husband. Great, Lizzie, that's just great._

_Lizzie. _Elizabeth smiled to herself, fiddling with strangely-shaped green leaves of one of the plants._ Although it sounds better when he says it..._

"Elizabeth..."

Elizabeth turned around, maybe a little too abruptly. "Yes?", she smiled (thinking that maybe she was smiling too much, but somehow she could not help smiling when she was nervous.)

Will looked at her for a moment in silence, and then took her hand in his. "I love you", he said quietly, his gaze strangely observant, expectant, maybe even pleading.

The sense of guilt washed over Elizabeth with an unexpected force. All of a sudden it became painfully clear to her that it was all her fault. It was her fault that he was trapped on this ship, that his life had been broken, that it had taken that undeservedly dramatic turn. If he had never met her, none of it would had ever happened to him. And either because of that sense of guilt, or simply out of compassion, she found herself saying: "I love you too."

But, contrary to what she had hoped, a grin that appeared on his face did not make her feel better.

It made her feel frighteningly cold.

* * *

"Good Lord!" Gibbs ran into Elizabeth's cabin, bewildered by the sound of multiple gunshots coming from there. 

As he came in, he was greeted by a peculiar sight of Jack swaggering out of the wardrobe, stepping at the slightly devastated wardrobe door. He narrowed his eyes taking a look at his pistol.

"What is it?", he asked, putting his pistol back into his belt, without even looking at Gibbs.

"Nothing", answered quickly Mr. Gibbs, glancing around the room curiously. "But... what's happened here, Jack?", he asked uncertainly.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and looked thoughtfully around the cabin. The pieces of the wardrobe door were scattered all over the floor, there were also clothes, pillows, and smaller objects located rather chaotically in different places.

"It does look a tad bit", Jack paused wriggling his fingers up in the air, "distressing."

"Aye, that it does", nodded Gibbs.

"Well, then, Master Gibbs. I want ye to take care of that... disorder. Ye can move everything to my cabin, and then introduce some order here", said Jack heading for the door.

"To the Captain's Quarters, ye mean?", asked Gibbs with hesitation, not sure whether that was the best idea, as he briefly imagined Elizabeth's reaction on finding all her belongings moved... Not to mention Will's reaction...

Jack spun around, and looked at him, squinting. "I do believe that it's what I said, Master Gibbs, unless ye consider either the Captain's Quarters not to be me cabin, or me cabin not to be the Captain's Quarters, in either case either ye being the first mate, or the first mate being ye shall be no longer the case."

Gibbs blinked. "I think I'll start right now", he said with a smile.

* * *

Elizabeth nervously held on to a small glass of red wine in her hand. She did not really like wine. She liked rum better. Although probably the only reason why she thought that she liked rum better was that rum was the part of the world that she wanted to run to right now. And the scent of rum was more familiar. The taste of rum... She took one small sip of wine, and tried to imagine that it was rum. The taste of rum... The taste... Sweet... wild... burning... Could the taste be burning? No, maybe not the taste... Or maybe not the taste of rum... She involuntarily closed her eyes for a moment. _"That'd be me lips on yers, luv."_

"Elizabeth?" Will's voice shook Elizabeth out of her reverie. She opened her eyes, and blinked. "You're all right?", he looked at her concernedly from the opposite side of the small table. His face looking strange in the candlelight.

"Yes", Elizabeth put her glass down on the table. "I was just thinking..." _Focus, Lizzie focus. _She thought that maybe she should tell Will about her conversation with Barbossa. Maybe she should tell him that only three people will be able to drink from the Fountain...

"Yes?", Will looked at her expectantly, studying her face in the dim light.

...But if she told him, he might want to go to Barbossa, and then Barbossa might tell him _something _about the key, and then...

"Who will become the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ after we lift the curse?" Her own question surprised her. She actually had not think about that before, but now, when she asked that, it sounded reasonable, indeed. How would that be resolved?

Will wrinkled his forehead, looking absently at the candles. "My father", he said gloomily after a moment of silence.

Elizabeth averted her eyes. So there he was doing the same choice again... But even though the choice was the same, the decision, or rather the circumstances were different. He was going to leave his father behind to be with her, only to discover that she was going to leave him behind...

If she could really do that... How could she do that after all he had sacrificed for her?...

Deep in thought, she did not even notice when he shifted his eyes to her, and now was watching her face intently.

"You must have felt awful, Elizabeth", he said softly.

She darted her eyes to him. "What do you mean?", she asked with a trace of nervousness in her voice, although she tried to sound nothing but ordinary.

"Alone, sad, and then lost when you had lost your memory", he trailed off, looking at her intensely. But there was no accusation in his eyes, only questioning anxiety, although she was not sure whether she actually did prefer the latter.

"Yes", replied Elizabeth with a small sigh. _What's your point, Will. What's your point._

"You did not remember... us", he said under his breath, and Elizabeth struggled to look him steadily in the eyes. It was what honesty was all about, wasn't it? Looking your interlocutor straight in the eye. She snorted to herself with bitterness. "And I understand that...", Will paused.

"That what?", cut in Elizabeth with a hint of irritation in her blank voice.

Will looked at her uncertainly, not sure whether he should really continue. "That you might have done something that you would have never done... consciously", he said at last in a nigh faltering tone of voice, but his eyes remained fixed on Elizabeth, who turned pale, although he probably could not see that in the dark cabin lit only by the candles. "I can understand. Just tell me."

Elizabeth stared at Will in bewilderment, surprised by his sudden bluntness. He was basically asking her-

"I don't know what you mean", Elizabeth looked at him wide-eyed. Why it was always easier to lie? Even though it could only cause more troubles...

Will sighed. "What's happened during that week, Elizabeth?", he asked in a low tone of voice, staring at the table, as if the question was not addressed to her.

Elizabeth knitted her eyebrows, her fingernails digging absently into the tablecloth. "You know I don't remember", she said after a moment of consideration. Surprisingly, it was actually true. At least in a sense...

He looked up at her, and the flames of the candles reflected in his eyes made her feel very uncomfortable all of a sudden. She was almost scared, but scared of what? Not of Will. How one could be scared of Will... But still...

"I saw you kissing him", he said in a hollow tone of voice.

Elizabeth stared at him in silence, taken aback, and caught completely off guard by his statement. She never expected him to actually say something _like that_ out loud.

"I think we were past that", replied Elizabeth stiffly.

Will's facial expression hardened slightly. "I don't mean back _then. _I mean yesterday."

Elizabeth froze staring at Will unblinkingly. She was utterly unprepared for that kind of conversation.

"Yesterday?", she echoed, not really knowing what to say.

Will did not say anything, he just continued looking at her. He was not angry. He seemed more disappointed than angry, but perhaps it was just his way of expressing anger... It struck her that she did not really know how he expressed his different emotions... She did not really know him, did she? She did not _understand_ him, as much as she understood-

She could no longer look at him, into his sad eyes. She quickly rose to her feet. "Will, you don't understand-", she started, turning away from him.

"So help me understand, Elizabeth." He left the table, and came up to her immediately. "Help me understand why he is always between us. What am I doing wrong?" He grabbed her by the shoulders, and turned her around to face him. Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise. He had turned her gently, but the gesture, coming from him, astonished her nonetheless. "Why did you kiss him? Why?", he shook her lightly. "You just said you loved me", he added quietly, a trace of a sad smile flitted across his lips.

"I do love you, Will", said Elizabeth in a quivering tone of voice. _Just not like you want me too... Just not romantically..._

_It's not a romantic kind of love... anymore... if it ever was... I'm sorry, Will, I'm so sorry..._

"So why?", he looked at her questioningly, pleadingly. How was she supposed to tell him... "Why did you do this? Maybe it's for the better once again? Maybe you wanted to save me?", he sneered slightly, the desperate look in his eyes terrified her.

Yet, it angered her. It angered her that he was reminding her of _that. _He should know that that memory hurt her, that it was making her feel awful, and unworthy, and guilty, and it was enough that she had done that, and that it will always be somewhere inside her, hidden somewhere deep in her mind, in her heart. And he had no right. If there was anybody who had a right to remind her of that, it was Jack. And Jack had forgiven her. And she was certain that he would never bring that topic up again. And now all of a sudden Will (Will!) was dragging that out, accusing her...

"Maybe I did", she blurted out, just because she was upset, just because she thought that he had no right to ridicule what had happened then.

Will let go of her shoulders. "What is that supposed to mean?", he asked, his voice calmer, and less cold.

Elizabeth stared at him, her eyebrows knitted, her gaze intense. His question baffled her. It baffled her how serious his question was. She kept silent, unsure as to what she should say. _What do you mean, Will?..._

Will looked at Elizabeth with hesitation. It suddenly appeared to him that perhaps she knew... He did not know how it was possible, but... As impossible as it was... It would be... beautiful. Maybe 'beautiful' was not exactly the right word, but... Was it possible? Could it really be?

"You would do it?", he asked, obviously following his own train of thoughts. "You wanted to do it again? For me? For us? Elizabeth...", he trailed off, his face softening.

Elizabeth's eyes widened even more, if it was yet possible. _What did I want to do? Again? What is he talking about?_

"I can't believe it", said Will quietly, and Elizabeth could not quite guess from his face what he was thinking. Was he upset? Frightened? Happy? Astonished? Angry? Relieved?

"I can't believe it myself", said Elizabeth hardly above a whisper, heading into darkness, her curiosity leading her blindly into the enigmatic conversation.

"I didn't know you knew about that", said Will averting his eyes for a moment.

Elizabeth's mouth twitched. What was he- Suddenly, she was struck by an idea. Was he perhaps talking about... But how would he know? How would he know that only three people will be able to drink from the Fountain? Maybe he thought that that kiss had something to do with it? That she was trying to make Jack to make sure that Will will be able to take the precious drink? But how would he know about that?

"I didn't know you knew", whispered Elizabeth cautiously, studying his face intently.

Will sighed. How was he supposed to tell her? He could not just tell her that he had talked with Barbossa... She would want to know why he had talked to him at all... Yet, he needed to explain to her somehow how did he learn that one could not drink the water from the Fountain, but had to be given the drink, and the person who was handing the drink was going to die... It also bothered him how did _she _know about that? And how it was possible that she wanted to make Jack give him the drink... Because it was what she was doing, wasn't it? _"Maybe you wanted to save me?" "Maybe I did." _And he was accusing her... He could not believe his own selfishness. She was going to sacrifice Jack. For him. Again. It was wrong. She should not... But she had kissed him... Like back then on the _Black Pearl_... To ensure Will's safety.

"Elizabeth. You can't", he said, cupping her face in his hands.

Elizabeth struggled very hard to keep her face unreadable. She was not sure that her assumptions were correct anymore. There was something strange about his reaction...

"Yes, I can", she replied smartly, her eyes fixed on his face.

"Elizabeth...", he whispered. "Don't..."

"Why not?", she asked, hardly noticing his hands cupping her face. She was too much intrigued by everything that was happening. She felt as if she was falling down a waterfall. _A waterfall... _

Will sighed, and took a few steps backwards. "I don't know... But maybe there is another way..."

Elizabeth approached him slowly, her mind racing, her voice calm and soothing. "What way, Will?", she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You couldn't live with it, could you?", Will smiled at her sadly. "You couldn't live with having him killed again."

Elizabeth felt cold shivers running up her spine, but she tried to ignore them. She tried to ignore the shivers, and ignore the furious beating of her heart... She needed to be calm. She needed to be observant, and cautious, and she needed to think clearly. _Having. Him. Killed. Again._

"Isn't it just ironic?"Will looked at her sadly, his voice bitter. "The Fountain of Youth, the promise of the eternal life. And the price for eternal life is death."

Elizabeth blinked, and bit her lip. "This is ironic", she managed to whisper.

Will averted his eyes, and looked out of a small cabin window for a moment. "You kissed him so he would give me the drink, Elizabeth? Did that kiss have something to do with the Fountain?"

For a brief moment Elizabeth's heart just stopped. _Drink? The drink from the Fountain... Give him, give Will a drink... So Jack would give Will the drink? "You couldn't live with having him killed again"... Good God, Will, what are you talking about? What are you trying to say?_

Elizabeth darted her eyes to the floor, not even able to say 'yes'. Not even able to say anything at all. A blurred image began to form itself in her mind, but she could not make much sense out of it. Yet. All she knew was that Will was not talking about the three people who will be able to drink from the Fountain... Maybe he even did not know about that. But he did know something else, something worse, something... How could he suspect her...

"Elizabeth", Will pulled her into an embrace. "I don't want you to do... anything like that. I don't want you to make your choices alone... anymore. You don't have to... I don't want you to feel guilty", he whispered, kissing her hair.

"No", said Elizabeth all of a sudden. "That's fine", she said in a quiet, but firm tone of voice, staring blankly into the distance over his shoulder. "Really. If we don't have a choice... Do we have a choice, Will?", she asked, trying, with all her strength, to keep her voice from faltering.

He was silent for a moment. "Right now", he paused. "I don't see any other way out... But perhaps..."

"Just don't worry about it, Will", said Elizabeth tilting back her head to look at him. "And tell me... how do you know about that? About the Fountain... and the drinks... I didn't think you knew that", she tried very hard to sound ordinary, but it was almost impossible for her to carry out that conversation at the moment.

She was confused, and terrified, and she could not put all those pieces together... Her thoughts were spinning chaotically, blurring her mind. And she could not believe in what she was beginning to understand. But it was apparent that there was more mystery to the Fountain of Youth than she had ever expected.

And it was also apparent that people could not drink from the Fountain of Youth on their own. They had to be given a drink. And whoever was going to give a drink was going to die... So, although Will probably did not know that part, there were going to be three drinks, and three deaths...

And for some reason Will thought that she was going to trick Jack into giving Will the drink... that she was going to sacrifice Jack... again...

How could he ever come up with such an idea?

So there was something more to the Fountain...

...and there was something more to Will as well, apparently...

And neither _something_ appealed to her too greatly.

But she was going to play along, and find all the missing pieces of that unexpected mystery.


	52. Chapter 52

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 52**

Jack smirked to himself at the sight of Elizabeth's trunks in his cabin. He made a mental note to tell Gibbs not to move Elizabeth's belongings back to her cabin after all.

He put his hat on, and walked out of the Captain's Quarters to take the night shift.

On his way to the helm, he stopped in front of one of the doors in the corridor, and looked at it disgustedly. He sighed, rolled his eyes, grimaced, and at last walked in.

"Ne'er heard of knockin'-", started Barbossa angrily, but then just sneered at the sight of Jack.

Jack slammed the door shut. "Yes, I did. I heard of knocking people out of places if they behave badly", said Jack slumping into a chair, and propping his feet at the table.

Barbossa snarled, and tore out a map from under Jack's legs, examined it carefully, and put it gently on the other side of the table.

"Oh, so she ran t'ye t'complain", said Barbossa mockingly. "How touchin'", he said with a sweetish grimace. "Only it seems t'prove my point, since I don't see it workin' with the Brethren. Ye bein' the indispensable advisor, an' all, ye know."

"Don't worry. Ye may not even live long enough to see the day, the next meeting, that is", said Jack with a smile, looking at Barbossa, but out of the corner of his eye scanning the table.

"Well, I wouldn't worry 'bout that", retorted Barbossa. "An' also, if there's anybody to blame for that unpleasant situation it's ye." Jack raised his eyebrows, clearly astonished. "If ye'd have found out the location of the chest, I wouldn't be forced t'make yer dearly beloved's pretty head worry over the subject. But ye left me no choice, Jack", said Barbossa sitting back in his chair, and unfolding his arms with pretended helplessness.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "I would point out all the weak points of yer grand plan", said Jack lifting a piece of paper from the table in his two fingers, "but I don't really have that much time right now." He looked at the paper, and then threw it behind him.

"Perhaps yer weak points are indeed easier to enumerate", replied Barbossa sneeringly. Jack looked at him steadily. "An' don't think that I don't know why ye're here", he added in a low voice. "An' that it has nothin' to do with that blasted key."

Jack wrinkled his forehead, nad tilted back his head, resting it against his hands intertwined behind it.

"Ye didn't know I knew 'bout that three people proviso, did ye?", asked Barbossa with a smile.

"No doubt ye want to be included, aye?", smirked Jack.

"Actually... no", replied Barbossa after a moment of mock-consideration.

"Suit yerself", said Jack cheerfully. "I won't dare trying to change yer regrettably _un_regrettable decision."

"Ye didn't quite catch my meanin', Jack."

"I knew it." Jack grimaced. "Too good to be true."

"It's even better", said Barbossa with a grin, reaching for the bowl of apples.

Jack followed his actions with a seemingly bored facial expression.

Barbossa took one of the apples from the bowl, and put it on the table. "You", he said pointing to an apple.

Jack arched an eyebrow, and crossed his arms over his chest, shooting Barbossa an indulgent look.

"The future former Pirate King", Barbossa placed another apple on the table. "And the future former Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_." The third apple joined the other two.

Jack narrowed his eyes, looking at the apples thoughtfully. Then he quickly leaned forward, and pointed at one of the apples. "Can I be this one? This one looks better."

Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Ye really don't know what's good for ye, do ye?", he asked irritatedly.

Jack sat back in his chair. "Actually I think I do", he stated, smiling complacently.

Barbossa reached to his pocket, and put the key on the table, next to the apples. "Me."

"Ah." Jack smirked. Barbossa grinned, leaned forward, and opened his mouth to speak. "I knew ye'd get tired of those apples one day."

Barbossa rolled his eyes in exasperation. The bloody idiot was just not going to be serious, was he?

"Ye don't think it will look suspicious if ye don't drink from the Fountain?", asked Jack all of a sudden in a serious tone of voice, reaching for an apple, and turning it in his hand.

Barbossa darted his eyes to him, and squinted. "It can be arranged."

Jack snorted slightly, his eyes fixed on the apple. "Oh, I'm sure", he said with a smirk putting the apple back on the table.

"D'we have an accord?", asked Barbossa with a half-smile, tilting his head to the side.

"What 'bout that part with the Brethren?" Jack tapped his fingers on the table, looking steadily at his interlocutor.

Barbossa snarled. "Subject to negotiations", he said, narrowing his eyes in a smile.

Jack took his feet from the table, and stood up. "And ye're going to take my word for the location of the-"

"No, I'd rather take advantage of yer hospitality, an' be dropped on the location to verify it. No offence t'be taken. Mere cautiousness", grinned Barbossa.

Jack smirked, bent over the table, his hand hovering over an apple. "Mere cautiousness, ye say", he said under his breath, and waving his hand over the apple dismissively, reached for the key, and grabbed it before Barbossa had time to protest.

"What-", Barbossa started angrily, rising to his feet.

"I'll give it back to ye when we reach the Fountain", explained Jack calmly, slowly walking backwards toward the door. "An' when ye won't drink from it", he said with a smile, pointing his finger at Barbossa.

"That was not the part of the agreement", said Barbossa irritatedly, his hand almost subconsciously travelling to his pistol.

Jack blinked, sincerely surprised. "There was no agreement yet. And apart from that, what reason do ye have to think I'm not going to be _reasonable_?", he asked, narrowing his eyes meaningfully. "'Cause whatever the agreement will be it will certainly be reasonable, won't it, aye?"

"Well, ye did prove to be capable of being unreasonable quite often so I'm not sure I should comply with those terms of yours", said Barbossa in a low tone of voice.

"Have some faith in me senses, Hector", smiled Jack, putting his hand on the door knob behind him.

"I have faith in yer _common_ sense", said Barbossa aiming his pistol at him.

Jack looked at the pistol disapprovingly, and sighed. "Without the location ye've no purpose for the key, which without the location is purposeless at the moment. My purpose, therefore, is to purposefully find the purpose for the key through locating the location which, being purposeful once it's found, adds the purpose to the key. Aye? And ye get both the location, an' the key at the same time. What do ye say to that?", inquired Jack happily.

Barbossa stared at Jack with a grimace, his pistol a few inches from his chest. After a moment of silence, Barbossa turned around, and fired his pistol at one of the apples, which burst into pieces. Jack winced disgustedly. Then Barbossa shot the second apple, and after cocking his pistol once again, he aimed at the third, but did not shoot. Instead, he grabbed the apple, bit into it, and then threw it on the other side of the room.

"I hope ye got my meaning, Jack", said Barbossa with a sour half-smile, putting his pistol away.

"Ye mean ye agree", replied Jack with a smile, which did not reach his eyes at all.

Barbossa snarled, and hissed: "Aye."

* * *

Elizabeth laid on the edge of the bed, faking sleep. She had talked with Will for the better part of the night, at last telling him that she was _awfully_ tired, and she had wished to go to sleep. And she had tried not to look too uncomfortable when he had walked her to _"our bed chamber"_. He had said that he will be right back, and left to give some orders to his crew, apparently, so Elizabeth had taken the chance, and quickly slipped into the bed, closing her eyes, and trying to appear very much asleep. 

She was afraid that her eyelids might betray her... She remembered when her mother had told her once that if you only pretended to be asleep your eyelids shivered slightly, while when you were really asleep, they remained motionless. And it had bothered her ever since, until she had come up with a trick. One evening, when her mother had come, as always, to tuck her in bed, she had closed her eyes, and asked her mother whether her eyelids were moving, and to her cheerful satisfaction, her mother had confirmed that her eyelids were, in fact, not moving.

Elizabeth held her breath when she heard the door crack opened, and she could hear Will stepping into the cabin.

She kept her eyes closed, crossing them under her eyelids, and imagining that she was looking at her nose. That was the secret. That was the trick. She just hoped that it worked...

She felt and heard Will laying on the bed next to her.

"Elizabeth?", he called quietly, bending over her.

_I am sleeping, I am sleeping_, she chanted in her head, as if it could help. But Will was not suspicious, apparently. At least at the moment... Which brought her thoughts back to the subject of their discussion...

The Fountain of Youth was no longer a happily desired destination. She almost felt like turning back, and leaving it all behind, abandoning the quest. And what would Jack say? What will he say when she tell him that they need to be handed the water in order to drink it, and that the people who hand the water will die... _If he does not know about it already_, she thought with slight annoyance. It was always a possibility... That he knew everything... _Well, if he knows about that, then I will... then this time he will certainly regret not telling me!_

A hand stroking her hair shook Elizabeth out of her thoughts. She almost forgot that she was supposed to be sleeping... Her eyelids were surely shivering, she thought, and panicked, but then she felt Will kissing her hair, whispering "Good night, Elizabeth", and, apparently, going to sleep.

She inwardly sighed with relief, and went back to her thoughts.

How could Will think that she was going to... (she could hardly pronounce the word in that context...) kill Jack again? How could he thought that ill of her? He must have been very desperate, indeed. Very desperate to find any excuse for her, any excuse that would overrule the possibility of her having feelings towards Jack... And she felt sorry for Will, she felt so painfully sorry for him. He really did not deserve going through all this... But what could she do?

And now, as if that problem was not enough, she got herself into yet more troubles... She made Will believe (or at least she did not say anything to prove him wrong) that she really was going to make, and let Jack give Will the drink...

She involuntarily smirked to herself at the thought of Jack's facial expression when she tells him all that. She needs to think about a good way to tell him yet. It may be quite amusing.

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead, and scolded herself in her thoughts. There was nothing amusing about the situation. Was it amusing that, basically, Will had nothing against killing Jack? Well, he had said that they should think about another way, but... What that another way could be?

One more question that bothered her was how Will knew about that strange Fountain mystery at all? He had not told her. She had asked him, and he had said that it was in that book, but she did not believe him. There was something in his eyes... And she just knew that he was not telling the truth (_so I turned Will into a liar... that's all my fault... everything..._). Especially, that Bill Turner had not mentioned such thing that night when they were discussing the quest. He would have told Jack about that, wouldn't he? If he had known... And he was the one who had read that book thoroughly...

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and stared into the darkness. Now she remembered that Bill Turner had even said that Will had not actually read the book. He had only read some fragments that his father told him to read. Therefore...

How could Will know that about the Fountain? If he had not read it...

She was only glad that Will, inadvertently perhaps, had not asked her how had _she_ 'known' about it. She would not have had an answer to that...

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She actually was tired. _'Course I'm tired. I've been drinking rum throughout the last night, and then I just slept for a short time... _She smiled to herself remembering the morning commotion. And then the kisses...

She knitted her eyebrows. Will had seen... How... And then she recalled hearing something in the corridor. _So it weren't just your lips on mine after all, Jack_, she thought with half-irritation, and grim half-amusement. It was Will.

Elizabeth snuggled her head into a pillow. Why it had to be so difficult? Why could she not just tell Will the truth? Despite everything, he would probably prefer the truth... Even though he was doing presumably everything he could to avoid hearing, avoid acknowledging the truth. He would rather think her a murderess, than adulteress. And it hurt her somehow.

She just wished she could be on the _Black Pearl_ right now.

* * *

Jack spent the entire night at the helm. He did not think he could sleep anyway. He kept thinking about what could have been happening at the _Flying Dutchman... _It was rather annoying, because he had actually made a resolution _not _to think about it at all. Yet, his thoughts were constantly betraying his will. Even though he probably had much more disturbing things to think about right now. 

For instance...

Jack took the key out of his pocket, and looked at it with a faint smile, although his smile quickly faded. He put the key back to his pocket. Why should Barbossa agree on his terms? Why had he not insisted on getting the key back immediately. Of course, he might have believed that Jack was going to go for his plan... But for some reason he did not really think it was the case. There was something else...

_He let go of that key too easily..._

* * *

Barbossa sat in his cabin in a very angry mood. He did not quite like the late turn of events. It was still his game, but the pieces were falling apart. He was supposed to keep the key, he thought angrily, but then smiled to himself all of a sudden. 

He did not need the key.

But it annoyed him that Jack had taken the key nonetheless, simply because he had not expected that too happen.

When they reach the Fountain... Turner gives him the drink, and he will drink it, despite the agreement. That will lose him the key. Barbossa sneered. _Which I don't need, ye fool_. Then Jack gives Turner (_have to talk to that whelp yet_) the drink, and Mr. Turner gets his heart back, as the water will cure the curse. Thoroughly. Something, that only he knew, thanks to his precious chart, once again. There will be no longer any chest, or key in question. Just the heart. Back in the chest; _literally_. _And this is where it will be stabbed, _he thought with a chuckle.

So he will be left with mortal Mr. and Mrs. Turner, Jack being dead after the drink already.

Then he will stab the heart, and sail away with his newly acquired _two_ ships. And the Pirate King. He smiled. So they would go to the Shipwreck Cove, and choose a more _appropriate_ King, while he could certainly think of a more _appropriate_ purpose for the soon-to-be-former King.

And with two ships in two worlds, as if, it would not even bother him too much that he could step on land only once in every ten years.

Barbossa staggered to his feet, took off his coat, and went to bed. He needed some rest before they would reach the Ghost Sea, which might prove yet to be the most difficult part of the journey.

He fell asleep thinking that the Immortal Pirate King Captain Hector Barbossa of the _Flying Dutchman_ and the _Black Pearl _certainly had a pleasurable ring to it.

* * *

"_We'll see whether you're good at steering the ship through the stormy, starry night, luv."_

Elizabeth woke up with a start, and sat up in bed. He looked into the darkness, her breathing uneven. She had a dream...

No. She had many dreams...

Has she been dreaming?

Her eyes adjusted to darkness, and then, all of a sudden she understood. Her eyes widened, and she put her hand over her mouth to suppress a gasp.

The dreams were real.

For a moment, she was not sure where she was. She looked around in confusion, and then she noticed Will. He was asleep, face pressed against the pillow, one hand under his head, the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

Elizabeth pushed her hair away from her face, and looked at the window. It was fairly dark yet.

Soundlessly, she slipped out of the bed, and crept to the door. She put her hand on the knob, and pressed it gently. The door opened, cracking slightly. She glanced over her shoulder at Will, but he did not even move, and she could hear his steady breathing in the silence of the room.

Cautiously, she went out of the cabin, and closed the door behind her. Taking one step at a time, she slowly made her way to the corridor, and then up the stairs on the main deck.

She needed air. She needed fresh air, and the sound of waves humming in the approaching semi-darkness of an early morning.

On deck, there was quiescence. Unseen by anyone, she walked toward the stern of the _Flying Dutchman_, catching a glimpse of Bill Turner at the helm.

At the stern, she rested her elbows on the railing, leaning over it, and gazing out at the _Black Pearl_, almost invisible against the murky sea, and the dark sky.

But the sky was brightening. Clandestinely, slowly, each passing moment conquered the blackness a little more, changing the pattern of dark colors, which were gradually losing their grim shades.

The ocean was quiet, and peaceful, and the warm air engulfed her with care, making her feel safe.

Or was it rather the sight of the _Pearl_?

"_...Wherever we want to go, we'll go. That's what a ship is, you know. It's not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails that's what a ship needs but what a ship is...what the Black Pearl really is...is freedom."_

Elizabeth smiled to herself, tears rolling down her cheeks, and falling into the ocean, noiselessly, lost in the eternal noise of the ocean waves ceaselessly crashing against each other.

"_You long for freedom. You long to do what you want to do because you want it."_

She propped her head on her elbow, staring out at the ship, at that ship which carried so many memories, which carried the most wonderful moments of her life... and the most painful ones too...

"_It's after you."_

She could not even recall what she was thinking... Did it even matter anymore? It has been forgiven... She smiled, wiping away the tears with the back of her hand.

"_Elizabeth... We're not back."_

But there were memories that forgiveness could not cure...

With her eyes fixed blankly on the black sails she tried to reenact some scenes from the past. Her mother... Her father... She had never really had a chance to say goodbye to either of them. They were gone before it had crossed her mind that it might have ever happened. She had expected being parted with neither of them. They were her parents. They were going to live forever.

And they did. As long as she remembered.

Remembered...

She remembered that house near Port Royal, she remembered her thoughts, that heart-piercing loneliness... which she had decided to abandon for just one day.

_Just one day._ Elizabeth smiled to herself, but her smile broke into a sob, and she cried as the words were floating towards her like the morning light breaking through the night sky.

"_I wanted to have one day with you without anything, and anybody else. One day. To just see you, hear your voice, talk to you, look at you, be with you without the world, without the past, the present, the future, without the context. Just you and me. Just you with me for one day."_

_Me too._ Wasn't that it? She had come to Tortuga for one day, one day which turned everything upside down.

"_Up is down." _She chuckled, despite the tears, which were flowing down her face.

But she did not mind them. They were washing away all her doubts and fears, they were bringing light, and the dawn which was slowly approaching, until the sunlight caught Elizabeth off guard, and she was almost surprised to notice that it was already morning.

She smiled at the sun, and closed her eyes, welcoming the new day, greeting that miraculous morning on which she had woken up... remembering.

Remembering...

Remembering _everything_.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and laughed, brushing the tears away from her face."At last", she whispered to herself in a faltering voice, looking at the _Black Pearl_ with an exhausted, radiant smile.


	53. Chapter 53

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 53**

After the night at the helm Jack went back to his cabin to get some rest, although instead of getting few hours of sleep, he ended up pacing around the Captain's Quarters in a decidedly unhappy mood.

Wasn't it the time for that bloody ship to capsi- submerge? No, of course it wasn't. It had just resurfaced last evening, a voice in his head reminded him sneeringly.

Jack sat down at his desk finding it utterly annoying that he was so utterly annoyed by the situation. It made him feel vulnerable, and he hated feeling vulnerable. As a matter of fact he even hated the bloody word itself, because it sounded fragile. Ah. Another one. Fragile. He disliked that one as well. Except... when it referred to her... Although he hated that either. Being fragile was making her vulner-

Jack rolled his eyes, and buried his head in his hands. She would probably scold him for calling her, (Lizzie the Pirate King, aye? He smirked.) fragile. She would get upset. Or perhaps she would not... He was not sure. There was more than one Elizabeth Sw- Yes, _Swann._ She could be astoundingly strong and persevering. And she also could be delicate and shy. Like the sea. Which was an exhausted metaphor, but it was true nonetheless. Except that the sea did not have such voluptuous lips...

He groaned inwardly with frustration. What was it? What it bloody was?... Of course he knew perfectly well what it was. It was that heart-rending bitterness of being separated from somebody you loved. That was why he had never considered it a good idea to fall in love. He snorted. As if it mattered now. His considerations. They all had gone to pieces when he had dived into the ocean in Port Royal on one sunny day.

A sunny day... Sunny, gold hair... He closed his eyes, and could almost feel her hair brushing against his skin... Soft... Delicate... _Hers_...

Jack opened his eyes reluctantly and frowned. It was just not right. She loved him, and she would rather be here, on the _Black Pearl _with him than _there_, so it was totally absurd that she had to be _there._

She had to... No, she did not have to. But it was better that way. Until they reached the Fountain it shall be better that way. _Better._ He snorted. _Easier_. It was cowardice; because the whelp would get angry; and the whelp was immortal (_thanks to bloody ye, mate, by the way_).

...But he should really go there. He should just go on the _Flying Dutchman _and take her away, take her back where she should and wanted and needed to be – on the _Pearl. _And he shall tell him to stay away from _his _Lizzie, and punch him-

Well. That might be uncalled for. But he did deserve that. For the sheer inconvenience of the fact that he existed. (Which was not his fault, but who cared?)

Loud knocking on the cabin's door shook Jack out of his thoughts. "Come in!", he shouted stiffly, both unhappy and glad about the interruption.

"Aye!", Gibbs quickly walked into the room. "We've cleaned the cabin!", he announced happily. "It's all shiny and polished, the wardrobe is fixed, the curtains changed, the carpets dusted-"

"There were no carpets in that cabin, Master Gibbs", cut in Jack sternly, staring absently into the distance.

Gibbs hesitated. "Aye, they aren't. But if they were, they'd be dusted", he said smilingly, but his smile slightly faltered at the sight of Jack's stony face. "It's not like she's in any danger", he added knowingly in a low voice after a pause.

Jack darted his eyes to him, and squinted frowningly, but then sat back in his chair, and sighed. "I know", he muttered, propping his head on an elbow.

"If ye ain't mind me askin', Jack... what are ye goin' to do?", asked Gibbs concernedly, not entirely sure he should be asking at all.

"'Bout what?" Jack shot him a questioning look, wrinkling his forehead.

"'Bout", Gibbs grimaced looking for a right expression, "yer neighbor's house, and all", he said with a nervous half-smile.

Jack blinked. "I think I regret givin' ye the keys to the rum cellar already", said Jack grimly. "What in the bloody hell ye're talking about?", he asked irritatedly, staggering to his feet.

Gibbs sighed. "I'm talkin' 'bout coveting yer neighbor's house, or yer neighbor's...", he swallowed, and shifted his eyes to the floor, "wif-"

"That'd be enough", Jack cut him off with annoyance. "Are ye goin' to lecture me on the ten commandments? If so, then as much as I hate to, I have to inform ye that ye might have broken at least", he paused, looking up and pondering it for a moment, "nine yerself already. An' some of them more than once", he said pointing his finger at Gibbs with a trace of a sour smile flickering across his face.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders in forced, but meek acknowledgement. "Jack, I'm just worried-"

"So stop worryin'. If ye want to worry ye may return to any port of yer likin', sit in the docks and worry all ye want. I'd rather have a first mate who ain't worryin' so much all the time. Those who worry less, tend to need less to drink, therefore such a turn of events may even bring some profit in the form of significant rum savings", stated Jack grimly.

Gibbs chuckled. "I'd rather stay where I am", he said firmly. "But-"

"If I'll be in need of an advisor I shall consider ye the first person for the position", Jack interrupted him drily.

"Aye", nodded Gibbs with a sigh. "I think I'll go then", he said resignedly.

"I'll take the helm", said Jack walking back to his desk.

Gibbs looked at him with hesitation. "But ye just...", he started (thinking that Jack had just spent the entire night at the helm), but trailed off realizing that he was... worrying again.

"Do ye have a problem with a captain standing at the helm of his ship, Master Gibbs?", inquired Jack irritatedly, looking at Gibbs over his shoulder.

Gibbs wanted to make a comment, but thinking better of it, he just shook his head, opened the door, and bent down to pick up one of Elizabeth's trunks to carry it back to her cabin.

"What are ye doing?" Jack's urgent voice stopped him in the doorway.

Gibbs turned around, about to explain, but Jack's eyes were so self-explanatory that he just put the trunk down. "They stayin' in there?", he half-asked, half-stated (the obvious, apparently).

"Aye, they do", replied Jack, averting his eyes.

Gibbs gave him a small smile, scratched his forehead, and was about to leave, but stopped yet before exiting the cabin. "We'll nearing to the Ghost Sea, aye?"

"Aye", nodded Jack absently. _Lizzie, Lizzie..._

Gibbs left, seeing that there was not a chance for discussing anything with Jack right now.

Jack sat at his desk again, resting his head in his hands. _I want ye back, luv_, he pouted in his thoughts. _I j__ust want ye back._

* * *

"I was worried." 

Elizabeth jumped up at the sound of Will's voice just behind her. She turned around, shifting her eyes from the sea to him. "I woke up early", she said smilingly.

"Very early", replied Will with a faint smile, and she could not quite decipher his mood at the moment.

Will took a step forward, and leaned against the railing next to her, looking out at the sea. Elizabeth half-turned, watching his profile. She was tempted to tell him... For the entire morning, from the moment she had remembered everything she thought it was best just to tell him... He was a good person... He would not do anything... bad, would he? He might get angry, but since there was nobody around except them right now there was little chance he would start brandishing his sword at her or threaten her with a pistol... And before they would go back on the _Black Pearl _his anger would fade... Or was she underestimating his feelings? Or overestimating his reasonableness...

And yet he might feel so shattered that he will abandon the quest, and it was something that she did not want to happen. She wanted him to be free. She wanted herself to be free. And if the curse was lifted, if he got his life back, it would set them both free...

...And then she could spend the rest of her life on the _Black Pearl_, she thought with thoughtless carelessness, with an impish, inward smile, feeling suddenly very giddy at the thought. She struggled not to close her eyes as the memories washed over her with unfair force, bringing back the feeling of Jack's arms around her, his bare skin against her bare skin, his warm lips pressed against hers, the heat, the coldness of his trinkets against her body, his lips sliding from her mouth down her neck, nibbling the flesh, his hands cupping-

"The only other way I see is forgetting about this entire journey altogether", said Will blankly.

Elizabeth snapped back to the reality, telling herself off for her inability to concentrate. It was not all that difficult to focus on a conversation, was it? She had enough self-control to prevent herself from having certain thoughts for several minutes, hadn't she? She could keep her mind _off_ the subject of Captain Jack Sparrow without his clothes on for a moment, couldn't she?

Couldn't she? Yes. She most certainly could... not.

"No! You must not even suggest that!", exclaimed Elizabeth hastily, trying to regain her composure (and deafen her thoughts).

Will blinked, and turned away from the sea to look at her, slightly taken aback by the loudness of her voice. _She is worrying... about me._

"Elizabeth", he said with a soft smile, taking her hand in his. "I just don't think it's the right thing to do... Sacrificing somebody... anybody for the sake of one's own needs."

Elizabeth looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. She was doing that right now, in a way. She was sacrificing Will. Well, maybe not exactly, not directly, but still. And maybe not sacrificing, but just... leaving, abandoning; destroying...

"I have an idea", she said with a small smile.

Will looked at her expectantly. That look... That look full of trust, and-

And it suddenly struck her, a thought so cold that it sent shivers up her spine. The thought, that she did not care, anymore... Not that she did not feel guilty... Not that she was not sorry for causing him pain... Not that she did not pity him... She did, she was, but... She just did not _feel _that pain _with _him, it did not affect her other than it would if it concerned any other human being who suffered...

"What idea?", asked Will after a moment of silence.

Elizabeth blinked, trying to calm down, and hide the feeling of dismay that was overwhelming her. "I just", she started, trying to focus. "I just thought that we shouldn't think about it right now at all." Will raised his eyebrows doubtfully. "There is still time, we're not nearing to the destination yet, so I think we should postpone making any final choices until we actually reach the Fountain", explained Elizabeth in a quiet, but resolute tone of voice.

Will looked at her pensively, pondering her words for a moment. "I guess you're right", he said in an unconvinced tone of voice.

Elizabeth gave him a small smile, that smile which was making him think of James Norrington. But he tried, once again, to ignore that absurd association. Like he tried to ignore many other absurd associations... as of late.

They talked for some time yet, but Elizabeth just could not shake off her mind that feeling of dismay, dismay at the thought, at the discovery, at the realization that she did not... love him, anymore... at all. She liked him, she liked him very much, very, very much- she cut herself off in her own thoughts. No matter how much she liked him, love, her love for him was over. And for some reason she felt about that as much guilty as... relieved.

All that was left was telling him that it was over...

But not yet, not now, not today. _I'm a coward._

It would just not be sensible to tell him now. It would not be smart. _Not a coward, then. A pirate. A pirate waiting for an opportune moment..._

* * *

Jack stared at the sun in annoyance. It was moving. It was progressing. It was setting. It was almost evening again, and the _Flying Dutchman _sailed on and on and on happily on the water surface. Jack was standing at the helm, gripping the spokes, and seriously considering doing something stupid. 

But then, as he looked at the masts of the _Pearl_, he noticed that they were bending, shaking, and moving...

...and then he decided it was perhaps a high time to get some sleep after all, before the masts would start talking to him...

* * *

Elizabeth survived three _family _meals, four extended conversations with Will, two long walks around the ship with Will's arm around her, a discussion about the weather with the crew, and a chess game with Bill Turner. 

And if she had enjoyed anything at all during the day, it was the chess game. The rest was simply insipid, and fairly annoying.

Everytime she was crossing the deck, she was stealing glances at the draught flag, and restraining herself from asking a random crew member whether it was the time to submerge yet. She did not know anybody among the crew, and did not wish her inquiries to be repeated to Will. It would seem as if she could not wait to get back on the _Black Pearl._

...which was of course precisely the case, but a surreptitious one too.

She was just watching the sunset with a feeling of bitter disappointment tugging on her mind preoccupied with reenacting her freshly recovered memories, when she suddenly heard somebody shouting those words that she was waiting to hear for the entire day. She put on a sad facial expression (_I am a horrible person_), and quickly went to Will.

* * *

"Welcome ba-", started Gibbs cheerfully, but was cut off by Elizabeth almost immediately. 

"Where is Jack?" She asked with untamed impatience which made Gibbs chuckle, although he tried hard to suppress it.

"Captain's Quarters, at last", replied Gibbs with a smile. "He was at the helm all night and all day long."

Elizabeth smiled at him brightly, and glancing over her shoulder at the _Flying Dutchman _which was just disappearing under water, she quickly headed toward the stairs, and below deck. She was slightly surprised that Will had not made his father to go on the _Pearl _with her, but she thought that maybe it was because of his false conviction that she was willing to persuade (_persuade_) Jack to give Will the water from the Fountain... Whatever his reasons were, she was elated with the result which was sending her aboard the _Black Pearl _all alone.

Reaching the Captain's Quarters, she stopped abruptly in front of the door, and slowly put her hand on the doorknob. She did not want to wake Jack up if he was sleeping which he probably was. She carefully pushed the door open, and walked in.

The cabin was rather dark, the dusk slipping inside through the small, round windows. Elizabeth noiselessly closed the door behind her, and crept toward the bedroom, almost tripping over some strange objects on the floor. She took a curious look around her, and to her surprise recognized her trunks. The surprise at the sight was quickly replaced by the memory of that day in Tortuga when all those trunks and boxes had been brought to her... She smiled, and looked to her right, toward the door that was ajar...

The bedroom cabin was almost completely dark, a curtain draped over the window, and an oil lamp burning weakly on the cabinet. Elizabeth tucked some strands of her hair behind her ear, and tiptoed to the bed with a smile playing about her lips.

Jack was lying on the bed with his face pressed down against the pillow, without his shirt on, his body rising and falling rhythmically, his breathing steady, hardly audible. Elizabeth sat on the edge of the bed, and drew her hand across his back, smiling to herself at the soothing sensation of feeling his warm skin under her palm. He tossed slightly in his sleep, turning his head, and she could see then his face half-covered by dreadlocks and trinkets. Leaning over him, she delicately and noiselessly pushed the dreadlocks, and all the items tied into them away from his face, and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand.

She smiled thinking that he looked rather funny sleeping. Or maybe funny was not the word... Sweet? Adorable? Innocent? Yes, he definitely looked like the incarnation of innocence when he was asleep. Elizabeth propped her cheek on his shoulder, and looked at him for a moment just listening to his breathing, thinking back to Tortuga again, remembering that she had once found his breathing fascinating. She closed her eyes, contemplating the moment. The silence. The calmness. The bliss. The feeling of being near him, touching him, inhaling his scent, (she lifted his head, and placed a soft kiss on his shoulder), kissing him...

He mumbled something, and she drew back a little, trying to recognize the words. It sounded like "cap's eyes", but she was not sure. She put her hands on his shoulders, and pressed her cheek against his back, shaking her shoes off her feet, and pulling her legs up onto the bed. The shoes hit the floor with a noise, and Elizabeth grimaced at her own carelessness, looking at Jack apprehensively. She did not want to wake him up, he was tired, and he should sleep. And she probably should leave him alone, and go to her cabin, but she just could not tear herself away from him. In fact, she was having a hard time trying to persuade herself that she should not wake him up... She had so many important things to tell him. About the Fountain... About Will's assumptions... About her memories... but even though they were all urgent matters, they could wait. What could not wait was her unconquerable necessity to be close to him, to be looked at by those dark eyes, to-

Her head involuntarily jumped up all of a sudden, when Jack turned onto his back, actually muttering the word "back" at least twice, which made Elizabeth chuckle. She froze, when he lifted his head if only slightly above the pillow, as if listening intently with his eyes still closed, but soon his head fell back onto a pillow, so the gesture was apparently unconscious.

Taking advantage of his outstretched arm, she laid down next to him, leaning her head on his shoulder, and putting her hand on his chest, on his heart... She glanced down at her feet which she placed over his, and smiled, looking back up at him, right in time to see him murmuring her name. Elizabeth smiled happily, and propping herself on an elbow, kissed him softly on the lips. His mouth twitched, and he repeated quietly: "Lizzie", so she leaned down again, and kissed him again, and when she drew back she suddenly noticed something. His eyelids. His eyelids were shivering. Very, very slightly, but shivering they were nonetheless. She narrowed her eyes, smiling to herself knowingly. He was not sleeping! _Liar_, she thought with an inward chuckle, running her fingertips across his chest, watching intently a trace of a smile that flitted across his lips. And when she kissed the bullet scars, his arm bent, as if unconsciously, closing her in an embrace. She glanced at his hand on her shoulder, and smiled at the memory of him putting his arm around her for the first time, on a little Caribbean island under the night Caribbean sky... Ages ago... Although it felt like yesterday.

She brought her face close to his, and whispered, her lips hovering just an inch above his: "If I wouldn't think it entirely impossible for you to withstand me burning the rum, I'd be inclined to think that you did not really pass out on that island after all."

His lips stretched into a roguish smile, and after a moment he opened his eyes, and looked at her, and, even knowing how his eyes always affected her, she was still surprised by the wave of heat that washed over her when he looked directly into her eyes. But she did not have much time to contemplate that overwhelming sensation, because he wrapped his arms around her, and putting his hand on the back of her head, lightly pushed her down capturing her lips into a passionate kiss. Never letting go of her, and never breaking the kiss, he rolled them over, trapping Elizabeth under his body, and between his arms.

"Taking advantage of a sleeping man again, aren't ye, darling?", he whispered with his lips still touching hers.

"And I would think it was rather the sleeping man who was taking advantage...", retorted Elizabeth quietly, slowly opening her eyes.

"Ah." Jack cupped the side of her face with his hand, and she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch with a sigh. "We square, then", he said with a smile, kissing her fiercely, deepening the kiss every time she tried to break it, until he finally released her, letting her catch her breath.

"Jack", she gasped, shivering.

"What is it, luv?", asked Jack smilingly, brushing his lips against hers, and stroking her hair with his hand.

"I have... I have many things to... to tell you...", she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jack wrinkled his forehead. "Aye", he said unhappily. "So what are we in for today? Map reading? Getting some more friends unsuccessfully drunk? Storytel-"

Elizabeth silenced him by putting her finger across his lips. "We're alone, Jack", she said quietly, tracing his jawline with her fingertips.

Jack quickly shifted his eyes right and left, and then looked back at Elizabeth. "Alone", he repeated incredulously.

Elizabeth giggled, pulling him down for another kiss. "Very alone", she said under her breath, sliding her hands down his arms. She could feel his muscles tense slightly under her touch.

"And how did you do that, luv?", he asked with a trace of a smirk flickering across his face.

"Persuasion", she smiled, tilting her head to the side, and lifting her hand to his face, but he caught her hand before she touched his skin.

"What kind of persuasion?", he asked quietly, delicately caressing her hand in his, and looking at her intensely.

Maybe too intensely even, because there was something in his gaze that stung her.

She was going to say: "indirect persuasion", she had all the words planned out, she knew what and how she wanted to say (she had amused herself greatly thinking it all out), but now, all of a sudden, she felt the good mood leaving her. She looked at him in silence for a moment, her smile fading.

Catching Jack completely off guard, Elizabeth pushed him away, and jumped out of the bed, heading for the door. Jack blinked, and wrinkled his forehead in bafflement, quickly staggering to his feet, and grabbing her by the waist he spun her around before she even reached for the doorknob.

"Lizzie, what are ye doing, luv?", he asked with confusion.

"Leave me alone!", she shouted, writhing furiously in his embrace. "And if you want to know no, I did not bed him! And no, I did not even kiss him! I'm not-", she paused, and grimaced. "If that's what you think of me!", she added in loud, and cracking tone of voice, tears gathering in her eyes.

"Lizzie, for God's sake, I've never said or thought such think!", Jack wrapped his arms around her to keep her from running away. "How can you even-"

"How can _I_?", she cut in, pushing him away to no avail. "How can _you_ ask me that!", exclaimed Elizabeth in a faltering tone of voice.

"I did not ask you that!", said Jack defensively.

"What do you mean by _that_? What _that_?", inquired Elizabeth angrily.

"What that?" Jack blinked. Elizabeth glared at him, finding it all more annoying yet that he still held her tight in his arms; in his _bare _arms. "Lizzie-"

"Let me go!" exclaimed Elizabeth cutting him off, and hitting his chest with her fists.

"Lizzie-luv", he started, still holding her firmly with his one hand, and propping (or rather trying to prop) her chin with the other. "Look at me, listen-"

But she was not going to listen. In one sharp movement she snapped away from his embrace, and stormed off the cabin, slamming the door shut behind her.


	54. Chapter 54

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 54**

Barbossa put on his coat, and grabbed his hat, heading for his cabin's door.

Soon they were going to reach the Ghost Sea, and since it was him who had the chart, he thought that he may finally have a rather unarguable right to spend more time at the helm. And he was looking forward to steering the ship, especially now that he had many things to think about, and there was no better place to think than the helm of a ship.

He was about to open the door, when somebody knocked on it. Barbossa raised his eyebrows, took a few steps backwards, and bellowed "come in". The door opened, and Will stepped into the room.

"What a surprise", sneered Barbossa. "I was told the _Flying Dutchman _has just submerged", he said narrowing his eyes.

"Doesn't mean I have to submerge as well, does it?", asked Will sharply, closing the door behind him.

"Spyin' on yer beloved, aren't ye, then, Captain Turner?", inquired Barbossa in a low voice, his lips twisting into a grin.

Will ignored his comment. He looked around the cabin disinterestedly, and then turned to Barbossa, looking him straight in the eye. "Actually, I just came to say '_no'_", stated Will blankly, a trace of a sneer flitting across his lips.

Barbossa squinted, but his face remained unreadable. "Ye came t'say 'no'", he echoed with a hint of irony in his voice.

Will raised his eyebrows, and nodded. Perhaps he should leave now. He had nothing more to say. He just came to say that he was not going to plot with Barbossa, that he was not going to plot with anybody. Yet, he still stood there, not really knowing why.

"And why is that, pray tell?", asked Barbossa, taking a step toward him. "I'm just curious", he said with grimace. "No doubt yer lovely wife made ye believe in some fairy-tales?", he sneered, a glimpse of anger flashing in his eyes.

Will narrowed his eyes at him angrily. "Give me one reason I should trust more my father's murderer than my wife", said Will sternly in a resolute tone of voice, glaring at Barbossa.

"One reason", Barbossa snorted. "One reason may be that I am in my own cabin now", he said irritatedly. "While I doubt whether yer wife is in hers."

* * *

Elizabeth managed to take maybe three steps down the corridor, before Jack caught her (both off guard and by the waist), and despite her loud, tears-ridden, and rather hysterical protests, flung her over his shoulder, and brought her back to the Captain's Quarters where he flung her again, this time onto the bed. 

"What do you think you're doing?!", shouted Elizabeth, tossing her ruffled hair back, and glaring at Jack, although it was very difficult to glare at him when he stood right in front of her, wearing only his breeches, breathing heavily, and staring directly into her eyes with his eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows knitted together. And to Elizabeth's frustration his ruffianly appearance was not exactly helping her to remain angry with him. She thought that if he kissed her now she might actually-

Unfortunately her train of thoughts was viciously interrupted, as Jack did exactly that, pushing her gently but decidedly onto her back, and kissing her feverishly, holding her hands by the wrists on either side of her head to prevent her from pushing him away.

"Have I ever... said anything like that?", asked Jack in a low, and fairly angry tone of voice, breaking the kiss, and catching his breath with difficulty.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and shook her head wordlessly, dazed from the kiss, dazed from his closeness, hardly knowing what he was talking about.

"'Course not", agreed Jack, more with himself than with her. "An' I think gettin' upset 'cause of somethin' that I did _not _say is more than unfair, isn't it, luv?", he continued in a still slightly annoyed tone of voice, although he found lecturing her regrettably impossible at the moment. He could feel her uneven breathing on his face, as she looked at him with those brown, glimmering eyes which held all the mysteries he had ever wished to and would ever want to solve. She was everything that mattered. _Annoying everything_, Jack smirked inwardly.

Alone. They were alone, aye? So he could as well annoy her, if only a little. Since they had the time... And she always looked so lovely when she was angry...

Elizabeth stared at Jack wide-eyed, transfixed by his dark, unreadable eyes shining down on her in the dimly lit cabin. She made no attempt to free her wrists from his grasp. She did not really care. She thought that she could just lie like that looking at him for eternity. _I'm angry with him_, she reminded herself blankly, feeling better that she could at least remember that she was supposed to be angry.

"An' gettin' upset 'cause of somebody's thoughts is also quite unreasonable", stated Jack in the most serious tone he could muster, looking at Elizabeth intently, with a glimpse of wicked amusement in his eyes.

For a longer while she just kept looking at him, breathing through her slightly parted lips, until something in his utterance struck her, slowly making its way to her consciousness. "What?", she asked, blinking, her dreamy gaze gradually changing into a glare.

"It did cross me mind", replied Jack with a sigh, and with a trace of thoughtful nonchalance in his voice, "which doesn't change the fact that I didn't ask-", he paused as Elizabeth tried to snap her hands away from his grip. "Ah, ah, ah, no", he shook his head, smiling at her impishly which infuriated her even more.

"So you actually did think that!", she exclaimed well-nigh triumphantly, lifting her head, and accidentally hitting his forehead with hers. She hissed, letting her head fall back onto the bed again.

"Ye're all right, darling?", asked Jack amusedly, brushing his lips against hers, but she only turned her head to the side abruptly in response, pursing her lips. Jack smirked, his eyes wondering around her face, her now exposed neck, and her hair spread chaotically on the bed cover. "Aye. As I said", he started, slowly descending his lips onto her skin. "It did flash across me mind, but it's not ye I don't trust, luv", he whispered, nuzzling her neck. Elizabeth trembled, suddenly very aware of his bare chest pressed against her body, and his mouth doing strange things to her neck.

"I'd never-", she trailed off with a gasp, and he cautiously let go of her wrists, sliding his hands down to her waist, while she quickly flung her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "I'm sorry", she muttered, turning her head to look at him.

"A very unusual phrase to be heard from ye, luv", whispered Jack, smirking, and very slowly pressing his lips against hers. Elizabeth clung to him, hastily deepening the kiss, her hands wandering all over his back, and his chest.. Jack drew back, and grinned, tearing her dress off her shoulders. Elizabeth blinked, and chuckled. "Hate buttons", he murmured into her hair, throwing the green fabric of the dress to the floor.

"Dress or nothing", she pouted smilingly, before his lips claimed hers again.

"Aye. Nothing left from the dress...", he flashed her one of his arrogant smiles, and with little help on her side, got rid of her dress completely.

She wanted to tell him that she remembered... Of all the things that she had to tell him that was the most important one, and she really wanted to tell him that, although her ability to concentrate was very limited at the moment, as her mind half-consciously registered that his breeches joined the shreds of her dress on the floor...

"'Lizbeth..." His voice, low, and husky would certainly make her shiver if she has not been shivering already. He gently pulled them to a sitting position, gathering her in his arms. She interlaced her fingers behind his neck, and pressed her lips against his, kissing him hungrily. She had missed that feeling of complete surrender which always accompanied her in his presence, when they were alone, together, locked in an embrace. She broke the kiss, and let her head fall onto his shoulder when he ran his hands up and down her back at a tantalizingly slow rate, pressing his coarse palms against her soft skin, and burying his face into her hair, whispering her name in abandon.

She smiled, trailing soft kisses on his neck, and resting her hands on his shoulders. She drew back hesitantly, searching for his lips in the semi-darkness of the cabin. His hands travelled to her breasts, his lips crashing down on hers with passion that caused her lose her balance, and she fell onto the bed pulling him with her, and entangling her fingers into his hair. The jingling sound seemed almost unreal, and she was not sure whether it was the sound of his trinkets or rather the sound of celestial bells reverberating in her head.

He kissed her passionately, demandingly, and she wanted to smile, but her lips were hopelessly trapped in between his, his hands teasing her in the most unfair manner, her eyes fluttering open, when he at last allowed her to catch her breath breaking the kiss, but never stopping touching every inch of her body, and she was certain that there was not a part of her left that he did not know everything about already. He opened his eyes, black like the night itself, and smiled at her, and it was a different smile, still roguish and arrogant, but at the same time more _true,_ as if; a sincere Jack Sparrow's smile with only a shadow of _Captain _hovering over it.

He leaned down, and looked at her in silence, their faces mere inches apart, ragged breathing mixed, eyes locked. He traced the outline of her face with his fingertips, and she watched him for a moment, before taking his hand in hers, and kissing lightly each of his fingertips.

"You did that once... before", he said quietly with a smile, stroking her arm with the back of his hand.

"I know", replied Elizabeth placing his hand on her cheek, smiling, and looking at him intently.

Jack smirked, and kissed her softly on the lips, but then something dawned at him. He pulled back, and looked at her searchingly. "You know", he echoed hesitantly.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side playfully, and grinned, brushing her fingertips across his lips. "And I want to know is there any truth in the-"

"...stories?", cut in Jack, kissing her fingers, and thinking back to that night on the island, when she had asked him that question, but not sure what did she mean this time.

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling mischievously. "No", she said, narrowing her eyes in amusement. "In the memories", she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jack blinked, his eyes roaming over her face, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. "Do ye by any chance mean what I think ye mean, luv?", he asked under his breath, his lips touching hers as he spoke.

Elizabeth cupped his face in her hands, looked him deeply in the eyes, and nodded. "I remember everything, Jack", she whispered, smiling sweetly.

"Ah", he said almost inaudibly, and Elizabeth was surprised by a sudden glimpse of worry in his eyes.

She lifted her head, and kissed him, and when she looked in his eyes again, the glimpse of worry was gone, although there was still a trace of uncertainty visible in his face. "Do you think I'm going to be angry with you?", she asked with a small smile.

Jack grimaced, as if considering it intensely for a moment, and then nodded very decidedly.

Elizabeth laughed. "Why should I be angry with you?", she asked, pulling him down, so his forehead rested against hers.

"Well-", started Jack rather cheerfully, sensing no real anger in her voice, but Elizabeth cut him off.

"It's not like you were dragging me around Tortuga asking people if they knew me", she said, squinting. Jack drew back a little, and opened his mouth, but Elizabeth quickly continued, giving him no chance to speak. "Neither did you, for instance, tell me that Mr. Cotton collects old keys", she said, arching an eyebrow. Jack winced. "Not to mention viciously seducing me in this very cabin-"

"No, no, no." This time Jack managed to interrupt her. "You got it all wrong, Lizzie. Right then I was actually trying to tell you the truth", said Jack defensively, slipping his hand into her hair, and ruffling it even more.

"Oh really?", asked Elizabeth, holding back laughter. Jack nodded. "So what happened?"

Jack's eyes glimmered, and he smiled slyly. "Shall I remind ye, luv?", he asked in a whisper, kissing her collarbones, and thinking, fairly astonished, that they were lying together in bed, and they were alone, and their clothes were scattered on the floor, and they were talking. _Talking._

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead, and sighed. "No", she said pensively, causing Jack to blink, a sad look on his face. "I don't think it's necessary. I told you, I already remem-"

He slid his hands, underneath her, and pulled her closer, kissing her lips, kissing her until all the teasing playfulness in her face was gone, replaced by dark, glowing mist of love and desire hovering over them. She looked at him, and it crossed his mind that her eyes looked like two black pearls set on fire.

"I remember the storm", she whispered, closing her eyes. "It was beautiful."

"You are beautiful", said Jack, kissing her eyelids.

"First kiss." Elizabeth smiled sweetly. "You did that after we had kissed for the first-", she stopped in mid-sentence, and he felt her stiffening a little.

"It _was_ our first kiss, Lizzie", he said in a low voice, brushing loose strands of hair off her face.

She opened her eyes, and smiled faintly. "How come?", she more mouthed than whispered.

"'Cause there was..."

"...no before", they finished in unison, and Elizabeth smiled. "And now?", she asked, tightening her embrace around him.

"Now", he whispered, and she had to smile again at the pure joy of hearing his voice, feeling his breath caressing her face, and watching his eyes shining in the dim light. "Now I'm going to show you what was before", he grinned, and leaned to kiss her.

"Doesn't make sense", muttered Elizabeth with pretended capriciousness, darting her eyes to his lips hovering over hers.

"Matter of perspective, luv", he whispered, smiling roguishly, and silencing her with a kiss. She gasped his name, and the world faded away along with the faint light of the oil lamp which went out, leaving them in the shimmering heat haze of sheltering darkness and passionate quiescence.

* * *

Will knocked on the door, but nobody answered. He felt awkward. What will Elizabeth think when she sees him? That he was, in fact, spying on her? Which he wasn't. He just could not tell her that he was going on board the _Black Pearl_, because his main reason for coming was to speak to Barbossa, and he did not want Elizabeth to know about that... He did not want her to know that he had actually considered plotting with him... But it was not important now. He had told him to go to hell (although he might have phrased it a bit differently.) Yet, the man had still managed to pour some poison into his heart. _My heart_, Will snorted. Yes, into his heart. The poison of doubt. 

Or maybe... It was always there, somehow. A doubt. The doubt. _That _doubt. Since _that_ kiss... And then another... How many?... He cringed at the thought that there might have been more... Was there more? But she had said... Well, she had not said anything. Apart from making him believe that she had done that for him.

"_Fairy tales."_

...making him believe that she was going to sacrifice-

Will closed his eyes. How could she? He remembered her during that journey to the World's End. She was absent, she was broken, devastated, non-existing, her eyes... her eyes were empty... No, not empty. Sad. Unimaginably sad. So how could she? How could she think about doing something like that again?

Unless... she did not...

Will shook himself out of his thoughts, and stared at the door before him, trying to remember what he was doing. Ah, yes. Knocking. He was knocking on Elizabeth's cabin door. So he knocked again. No sound. He cautiously pressed the knob, and opened the door, peering into the room. The room was empty. He sighed, but then something struck him.

The room was _very_ empty.

He walked inside, and looked around in bafflement. There was nothing but furniture, and the room smelled of cleaning, the scent of water and soap hanging in the air. But that was it. All Elizabeth's belongings were gone. And the cabin looked as if nobody had ever lived there.

_Where are you, Elizabeth?_ A nigh unconscious voice in his head asked, strangely not even thinking about the empty cabin anymore.

* * *

The cabin was dark and quiet, but as she was lying in his arms, her face snuggled against his chest, it seemed as if the air was glowing, and the silence was humming sweet songs into her ear. 

Jack held her in tight embrace, one hand resting on her hip, the other stroking her hair, while his head rested against hers, his eyes closed, a small sly smile plastered onto his lips.

"I love you, Jack", whispered Elizabeth, pressing herself closer to him, although they were as close as possible already, entangled into each other with no space in between.

"Nineteen", said Jack, gently sliding his fingernails up her back.

Elizabeth shifted in his arms. "Nineteen what?", she asked, confused.

"In the last quarter of an hour, it's the nineteenth time you said it, luv", replied Jack with a poorly concealed hint of amusement in his voice.

"Jack!", she tapped him on the shoulder with mock-annoyance.

He tilted back his head, and she looked up at him. "I love you, 'Lizbeth", he said in a serious voice, and brushed his lips against hers.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and smiled. "Twenty seven", she said triumphantly, pressing her lips to his.

"Oi. Ye've been counting", pouted Jack complainingly.

"So have you", said Elizabeth with a chuckle, burying her head in the crook of his neck.

"I'm the Captain, luv. I can do everything", stated Jack decidedly, looking at her peaceful, smiling face snuggled against him. He grinned inwardly, memorizing the moment, hardly believing that it was back. All that hard-won, lies-paid, stolen bliss was back. And she was back in his arms, and she remembered everything, and he could not even remember anymore why he had ever thought that she would have hated him once she had learned the truth... Now she knew, and everything was perfect. Almost...

"I'm the King", retorted Elizabeth with nonchalant authoritativeness, nuzzling his neck.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Technically, I am too, since I voted for ye, an' ye voted for the same person I voted for, then we can assume that if I voted for meself, then ye, voting for the same person I voted for, would vote for me as well, which makes me the King", he paused. Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, and looked up at him incredulously. "Hypothetically", he added, narrowing his eyes in a smile.

"You're insufferable", she pouted drowsily, snuggling herself against him. "I love you", she added casually, as if the two sentences just went together.

"Twenty", announced Jack contentedly, and kissed the top of her head.

Elizabeth gasped with exasperation, smiling furtively into his chest.

* * *

Will slowly walked out of Elizabeth's cabin, noiselessly closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall in the corridor, not really knowing why he felt so strangely exhausted as if he had not slept in ages. Exhausted, and worried. Worried?... 

Scared.

He ran his hand across his forehead, and sighed. She must have been somewhere on deck, at the stern, or at the bow, or in the galley, or-

He looked up at the door on the opposite side of the corridor, and felt a twinge of something dark in his... yes, in his heart. _I am imagining things..._

_Indeed_, some strangely sneering voice in his head added.

Will pulled himself away from the wall, and slowly approached the door. He raised his hand, as if to knock, but then snorted to himself, and his hand dropped onto the knob. _No more knocking._

* * *

"You got the key back?!" Elizabeth sat upright in bed, looking at Jack in disbelief. "Why didn't you tell me?! How did you do that?! 

Jack smiled complacently, reaching to her face, and brushing a few locks of her hair behind her ear. "Luv, I thought you should know _that_ by now", said Jack with a deliberate trace of disappointment in his voice. "I am-"

Elizabeth leaned down and kissed him fiercely. "Captain Jack Sparrow", she whispered smilingly, pulling away. "So where is it?"

He cupped her face, and pulled her into another kiss yet. "Somewhere on my desk", he said dismissively, sliding his hands down her neck, and arms, enjoying the feeling of her smooth skin under his palms.

"Somewhere on your desk?" Elizabeth blinked. "_Somewhere_?" She gasped disapprovingly, slipping away from his embrace.

"Where are ye going, Lizzie?", asked Jack putting on a hurt facial expression.

"Get that key. I'm not going to lose it again", she explained, sliding off the bed, but then she stopped in mid-action, and glanced over his shoulder at Jack who was lying on his side, his head propped on an elbow, as he watched her, smirking. Elizabeth clutched the bed cover pressing it tightly to her body, and grabbing Jack's shirt from a near-by chair, as it was the only piece of clothing within her reach. She put on the shirt, and staggered to her feet, shooting Jack a triumphant glance. He looked at her sadly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought we've already established that _nothing _suits you best, luv."

"Not_ best_", said Elizabeth with a smile, tiptoeing out of the bedroom._ "Better. _Better than a dress. But this is not a dress."

"Aye. That's me shirt", stated Jack unnecessarily.

Elizabeth grinned to herself, and went over to his desk, and searched for the key. The room was strangely bright, even though it was almost midnight. Several lamps burned in different parts of the cabin, and Elizabeth looked around with a smile thinking that it was really a cozy place, a place that truly felt like home to her.

"Have you found it, luv?", came Jack's voice from the bedroom, and Elizabeth was about to say that she haven't, when she finally spotted the key under one of the maps.

"Yes, yes, I ha-", she started happily, turning away from Jack's desk with the key in her hand...

She froze, and the key slipped off her hand hitting the floor with a strangely quiet, almost mute sound. She suddenly felt very cold with only Jack's shirt barely covering her body, and not even reaching her knees. But it was not the lack of clothing that sent icy-cold shivers down her spine... She paled at an instant, her flushed cheeks turning white in the blink of the eye. She could neither move, nor speak, unable to even utter one single word, unable to tear her gaze away from _his_ sad eyes.

Will stood motionlessly, staring at her in silence.


	55. Chapter 55

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 55**

Barbossa walked up the stairs huffing in annoyance. It was just all going _too _awry. Bloody stupid _noble_whelp. And because of the whelp's stupidity (_"Don't do anything stupid"_ reverberated in his head, irritating him even more), he had said a few more words than it was perhaps necessary. And now the whelp will know all of the truth. _A wonder he had not already._ Barbossa snarled, and stopped in the middle of the stairs. His plans had to be reconstructed, a bit. But regardless the changes he will be forced to make, it was not the best moment to have some blasted idiots killing each other. He rolled his eyes, and turned around. _Guardian angel, bloody hell._

* * *

He just looked at her... 

Maybe if he said something, or screamed at her, she would be able to speak, but somehow that ghastly silence was making it impossible for her to utter even a word. She stood, frozen to the spot, the feeling of dismay, cold and overpowering enveloping her, and she did not even blink, she could not turn around as all the well-stored away emotions washed over her at an instant.

She betrayed him. And while she might have betrayed him some time ago already, right now it was a greater kind of betrayal. Now she did that consciously, fully aware of what she was doing, knowing perfectly well what was happening, having no excuse in the form of not remembering... She remembered everything. (Maybe even more than she wanted to remember...) And now it was all her fault, and she could not hide behind somebody else's lies anymore... Now it was her lie, and her betrayal. And she did not even regret it...

But she was terrified all the same, and she was feeling guilty, so painfully guilty, almost as guilty as when... Almost.

She stared into his eyes... His eyes... so distant, so still, so cold... So sad. He looked at her unblinkingly, and for a moment she thought that he was not real, that it was only his ghost standing before her, and not him. _How long has he been standing here?..._

But even he could not have been able to answer that question. It seemed like eternity, yet it was probably no more than few moments, few shattering moments in which his entire world had collapsed falling into pieces with deafeningly inaudible noise.

He looked at her, but it was as if he was not even there. Everything seemed so unreal... so unimaginable... Could it really be?... Could it really be her?...

...And she just stood there, shaking, wearing only a sh- _his _shirt... Her hair dishevelled, her eyes ablaze, her cheeks... pale, so pale now, but it had not escape his notice that they were flushed just a moment ago. And he could almost sm- almost?... he _could_ smell that strange scent... _his _scent. Sea... Rum... Sweat...

He felt sick. His head hurt. Elizabeth. His beautiful Elizabeth. Elizabeth Turner. His wife E-

"Lizzie-luv?"

Elizabeth shivered at the sound of Jack's voice coming from the other cabin, cutting across the silence, and bringing her back from her stupor. She blinked, and instinctively looked toward the door.

And then, not really knowing why, she just ran - back there, and away from those eyes.

Jack was sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling on his breeches, when she stormed in, pale, wide-eyed, with tears flowing down her cheeks. He quickly rose to his feet, and cupped her face, wrinkling his forehead, and looking at her concernedly.

"Lizzie, what is it?", he asked under his breath, taken aback by the sudden expression of dismay on her face.

"It's... Will", she said in a weak voice, wincing.

Jack looked at her for a moment, then glanced at the door. "All right", he said motioning her toward the bed, and sitting her down. "Stay here, luv." He brushed the tears away from her face with the back of his hand. "Kings don't cry", he said softly in a futile attempt to make her smile if only a little. But she did not smile at all. "Sooner or later it was going to happen", said Jack in a quiet voice.

"I have to talk to him", she whispered hesitantly, hugging herself, her eyes wandering around the room absent-mindedly.

Jack leaned down, propped her chin with his hand, and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Later", he said, brushing his thumb across her bottom lip. "Now, let me." He walked away, pulled a shirt out of one of the drawers, quickly put it on, and went out of the cabin, closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth stared at the door, her hands clutching the bedsheets. She should go there... _She_ should talk to him... Yet, at the moment, she was grateful that she did not have to...

"Coward", she whispered to herself through her gritted teeth, bursting into tears.

* * *

"You should've been told earlier. I am sorry", said Jack, not very happy with the way it must have sounded; somewhat harsh, if only unintentionally, but the intentions did not make much difference, did they? 

Will stood in the middle of the cabin, fiddling absently, after picking it up from the floor, with the key in his hand. He did not seem to hear him.

"And what is that? An apology?", he asked all of a sudden in a sharp, quiet, sardonic voice, still staring at the key.

"No", answered Jack, narrowing his eyes, and looking at him intently. "I wasn't apologizing. I just said that I am sorry."

"Really?" Will closed the key in his hand, and turned around, anger surfacing in his eyes. "Sorry for what?" He knitted his eyebrows, and took a few steps toward Jack.

"Don't take it too literally. I'm sorry _about _the situation, or rather about your place in said situation, that's all", Jack walked away from the door, coming up to his desk.

"That's all?" Will grimaced with exaggerated disbelief. "I don't think you know what you're saying", he said, glaring at Jack contemptuously.

Jack sighed, and slumped down into a chair at his desk. "Sit down", he said blankly, gesturing to the chair across from him.

Will snorted, and turned around, running his hands through his hair. _"Sit down." Bastard will be telling him to sit down!..._

"I'm not going to talk with _you_", hissed Will, still standing with his back turned to him.

"I'm afraid that's yer only option", answered Jack calmly, sitting back in his chair, looking at his desk.

Will turned to him, and looked around the room, as if considering something for a moment, and then in no time he got to the desk, pushing it away. The desk fell on its side, all the maps, and papers slid onto the floor forming a chaotic carpet of white and yellow papers.

Jack squinted briefly, but did not move. He looked at the desk disinterestedly, and then looked up at Will with expressionless face.

"I told you I will kill you", said Will in a hardly audibly whisper.

"So?" Jack pulled himself to a standing position, and kicked away the chair in which he had been sitting. "What are you waiting for?"

Will looked at him blankly. "She was...", he started in a low, strangely thoughtful voice, his eyes wandering around the cabin, "hurt, she lost her memory, she was... lonely, and you took advantage of her, of her helplessness, and... defencelessness... Why? What for? It never crossed your mind that you may ruin her?", he darted his eyes to Jack, his facial expression hardening. "Mentally? Emotionally? In every possible sense? Or maybe it was not a high enough price for...", he swallowed, and closed his eyes, "few nights. And you knew she would have never consciously-"

"I love her", cut in Jack in a metallic voice, looking at him intensely. Will's eyes snapped open. "And yes", he continued in a different tone of voice. "I did take advantage of that accident, and of all those other circumstances you have mentioned, but..._ ruined_, as you called it, was she _before_ that accident, and not after."

"What is that supposed to mean?", asked Will with an angry grimace, glaring at him.

"That she was dying", snapped back Jack sharply. "Oh, I'm sorry", he sneered slightly, "_waiting _in complete seclusion, unable to live the life she had wanted, and you had known that." Jack narrowed his eyes pointing with his hand to him. "You had known that she wanted to be at sea, that she wanted to soar above that ocean rather than glance at it from time to time from shore, and yet you had just left her with that firm, false conviction that she should just joyously and patiently wait for those ten years doing nothing, nothing worth doing, nothing she would have considered worth doing." He paused. "And ten years is an awfully long time, mate. It's a hell of long time."

Will stood silently, his mind replaying the scenes of the past before his eyes, blended memories of all those beautiful moments with her... now scarred, interrupted, invaded by those shreds of misery which he had seen... That kiss, and then another one, and then she standing here before him in that shirt... His eyes wandered accidentally to Jack's hands, and he felt a wave of fury overwhelming him, when a realization suddenly struck him, the realization that it was really happening, that all of that had really happened. Up till now it had felt so unreal, that he could not have quite believed it... But now, slowly, gradually, he was becoming more and more aware of what was happening. He was losing her. He was really losing her. And those hands... Those dirty, ugly, pirate hands...He touched her... He touched his wife with _those _hands... He...

"Let's just find that Fountain, and then part our ways", said Jack in a perhaps slightly too careless tone of voice. "That's be the wisest thing to do", he added more seriously, trying to decipher the thoughts running through Will's head at the moment, as he kept strangely silent. _Something stupid on his mind, no doubt._

"I don't care about the Fountain!!" shouted Will all of a sudden. Jack widened his eyes, displeased with the sudden noise. "I wouldn't want you to give me that water with your disgusting hands even if that'd be my only chance to lift that curse and get rid of you! I'd rather kill you right now!", he added in a venomous tone of voice, dragging out his pistol.

The side door opened, and Elizabeth ran into the cabin. "Will, stop it!", she shouted in a faltering voice, tears streaming down her face. She had been listening at the door, praying that somehow the conversation would go peacefully (which was a futile wish, but she had tried to believe it nonetheless.) But, obviously, it was not going to be easy. How could it? How could she expect that he will just understand...

Will's hand with the pistol involuntarily dropped to his side, when Elizabeth went to stand in front of Jack.

Even though the sight of the pistol was definitely something to worry about right now, Jack's attention was suddenly drawn to Will's words rather than his actions.

"Give ye the water?", echoed Jack with a grimace of bafflement, trying to carry out the conversation, while he grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders, turning her around, so he was the one shielding her. Will's face twitched. "Can't ye drink by yerself?", asked Jack with a hint of amusement in his voice, immediately scolding himself for not being as serious as the situation required. But, for some reason, he felt rather relieved that everything was clear at last, that there were no more secrets, and now Elizabeth would not have to go aboard the _Flying Dutchman _anymore.

Will shot Jack a funny look. "You... don't know?", he asked, suddenly feeling cold shivers running down his spine. Something was wrong. Something...

Elizabeth stood behind Jack, holding on to his arm, crying quietly, and just wishing that it all would stop, that Will would just leave them alone, or that he would have never found out, or-

And then suddenly, her mind registered the last words that were being spoken... Something about the Fountain...

"Know what?", Jack wrinkled his forehead, tilting his head to the side, and looking at Will questioningly.

Will glanced at Elizabeth, whose face was blank, except for the traces of tears, and glassy, worried, anxious eyes. He blinked. She did not tell Jack? She did not tell him about the Fountain? About the handing of drinks? About dying? About... He blinked again, knitting his eyebrows in disbelief. No, it was not possible. No. How... But... What if?... No, it was not... But... If she really... Could it be? Could have she really been planning on doing that after all? If she had not told him... Did it mean, that she really wanted to make Jack give him a drink? But... how could she gone as far as to... Or maybe... Since it had happened before, when she had lost her memory, now she just merely pretended that nothing changed... And she wanted to make him give Will a drink, and now it was what she was doing, she was doing it only to put her plan into action... She had told him they should wait until they reached the Fountain. But it was Elizabeth. _"It was my burden to bear." _Was she doing it again? _"Only I didn't know what it was." _Was he?... What if... What if she really... But he could not read the answer to his questions on her face.

"Know about the Fountain", said Will slowly, trying to make sense of the situation.

Jack rolled his eyes. "What about it?", he asked with a trace of annoyance in his voice.

"You didn't tell him", Will half-asked, half-stated looking past Jack at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth blinked, and grimaced in confusion. She felt exhausted and tired from crying, from thinking, from feeling guilty, feeling- What was he talking about?

Jack narrowed his eyes, not sure whether he liked where that discussion was going.

Will stared at Elizabeth stubbornly, as if looking for some kind of clue in her facial expression. What was the meaning of this? Was he going mad? Or was the situation so convoluted, and intricate that there was no chance of ever fully understanding it? Was she a victim or a plotter? Was she lying to him or to Jack? Whom was she betraying? Whom did she love?

"You really wanted to do that, then?", Will heard himself asking, a trace of not entirely sincere disbelief in his voice. And as soon as he said it, he knew that it was not the right thing to say, that he was saying not exactly what he had wanted to say, but he was saying it nonetheless, subconsciously anticipating that it may help him somehow, that following that train of thoughts may save him.

It may save her... for him.

Elizabeth would probably not even know that he was talking to her, if it was not for his eyes fixed on her at the moment.

"Do what?", she asked in a still quivering tone of voice, staring at Will in bewilderment.

Will swallowed. What was he thinking? He did not know himself what he was thinking. Did he really think that? Did he really believe that she wanted to kill Jack again, or was he just deliberately trying to make himself believe that it was what she wanted to do... That that was her true motif... That she was playing her part... in a way, and in a way she was just doing what she wanted to do... at the moment. _"How can I trust you?" _

"_You can't."_

"I thought you said- I said we should find another way, and you said we should wait...", Will trailed off, not even recognizing his own voice anymore.

Elizabeth grimaced, trying to concentrate, and understand- And then suddenly it flashed through her mind what is it that he _might _be referring to.

"So she did not tell you that there is the necessity of having the water handed to you by another person, and that person is going to die in the aftermath", said Will in an indifferent tone of voice, looking at Jack steadily.

A part of him wanted to believe that she had not tell Jack about the drinks, because she planned on tricking him into handing the drink...

But a part of him knew that she would not have given herself to somebody only to carry out some plan of hers... Although it was not a somebody. It was Jack Sparrow. And she liked him. She always liked him in that scary, dangerous way. He fascinated her. And then again she _might _(but only _might_) want to kill two birds with one stone, as if...

He felt a twinge of some cold, bitter feeling somewhere deep inside his chest. He was suddenly scared of his own thoughts. How could he have such thoughts? How could he suspect her- Will snorted inwardly. How could he? She was right here, right in front of him, half-naked, gripping Jack'sarm in the middle of Jack'scabin, in Jack'sshirt. _What else do you need, you fool._ He screamed in his thoughts, almost surprised that those screams could not be heard.

Elizabeth cringed, a strange, frightening feeling of abstract astonishment clouding over her mind, when Will finally spoke again:

"You were to give me the drink."

Jack raised his eyebrows, for once not really following somebody's line of reasoning. Give him a drink? Hand him a drink? Die in the aftermath... _"You were to give me the drink." _His eyes widened, but then he blinked, and narrowed his eyes. _No._

"I just didn't think you would go that far to achieve it...", Will slowly shifted his eyes to Elizabeth, almost afraid what he would see there. Why was he saying this? What was he trying to do? He did not know, he was blindly grasping his thoughts, and turning them into words, half-knowing what they meant. He looked at her, and wished he could stop loving her. How could he still love her? After... that. How?

Somehow... he could. He smiled sadly to himself, a faint, invisible smile. He quailed at the thought of her leaving him, of her not loving him... anymore. And that thought, somehow, dismayed him more than the expression on her face at the moment. She looked at him with timid bafflement, with confusion, with disbelief.

Disbelief... He could not quite believe his own words himself.

Elizabeth took a few steps forward. "What are you trying to say?", she asked under her breath, looking at him with a glimpse of anger in her eyes. She was not crying anymore. But she was terrified.

"Nothing _you_ haven't already said before", answered Will blankly.

Elizabeth stared at him, and he almost could not stand the look of horror (disappointment?...) in her eyes, but he managed not to avert his eyes, and looked at he steadily, as if he believed every word he was saying.

"It's not true", she whispered, almost inaudibly, and out of the corner of her eye he caught Jack, who listened to everything that was being said in silence, looking at her, so she turned her head, and looked at him, and froze noticing a very faint glimpse of uncertainty in his eyes. Very faint... but there nonetheless.

"It is true", countered Will mercilessly, and she darted her eyes to him, astonished. Did he really think that? Or was he just pretending that he was thinking that? Why was he saying that? What was he trying to suggest? What was he trying to say? What was he trying to do?

"It's not true?" This time it was Jack's voice. Not cold, just...asking. Asking her.

Elizabeth shifted her eyes to look at him, and she felt a twinge of pain at the sight of that strange sadness. Sadness? No... Thoughtfulness, rather... in his eyes.

"Of course", she said quickly, but then... "I mean", she shivered at the growing intensity of his gaze. "The information is, but... I just didn't have the time to tell you, I was going to tell you, I...", she trailed off, shocked. Why did she have to explain that to him? He could not be thinking that... He could not think... How could he? How could he think that she was not going to tell him? How could he possibly-

"_Pirate."_

"Jack", she gasped, horrified.

* * *

Barbossa snorted to himself, and walked away from the Captain's Quarters door. _Not bad. _

He produced an apple from his coat pocket, and took a bite. _And not that stupid, after all_, he thought, smiling amusedly.

* * *

There had been not many moments in his life when he had not known what to think... If there even had been any such moments at all... 

But somehow right now he was slightly taken aback by that strange revelation... He did not believe that, he did not even considere it to be true, but there was that one, annoying, ridiculous question tugging on his mind... Why she had not told him? She could have told him... Why hadn't she? Why hadn't she just told him... Why-

"Jack", Elizabeth almost dug her fingernails into his skin, so strong was her grip on his arm. "I just found it out, just now, just few hours ago, he had just told me, I was going to, I wanted to tell you, I was- Remember, I told you I had many things to tell you-", she stopped, catching her breath, suddenly not sure anymore whether she had really told him that she had many things to tell him... Maybe she had just thought that? She could not remember... But it was not important, what was important was that-

Jack opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't. He just looked at her. He just looked at her!...

Elizabeth stared back at him in astonishment. "You don't", she whispered querulously, slowly shaking her head in disbelief. "You don't think...", she trailed off, hardly hearing her own voice against the loud beating of her own heart audible in her ears.

Will watched the scene in silence, feeling as if many years had passed since he had walked into that cabin... He was exhausted, and confused, still. Or perhaps he just tried to keep himself confused?

"Jack", whispered Elizabeth, her lips merely moving as she spoke.

"Captain!"

Everybody cringed, when all of a sudden Gibbs burst into the Captain's Quarters, stopping abruptly in his tracks at the sight before him. Crying, half-dressed Elizabeth, Jack with a grim look on his face, and Will... not in a happy mood as well, apparently. "I'm sorry t'be... interruptin'", muttered Gibbs with an apologetic half-smile, "but we're havin' a tad bit of trouble up there, I'm afraid-"

"The Ghost Sea", cut in Jack gloomily, darting his eyes to him.

"Aye", nodded Gibbs. "We've finally reached it, as it seems."

Jack quickly walked to the door, grabbed his coat hanging next to them, and put it on.

Elizabeth stared after him in shock, her hand still slightly outstretched, as if she did not even notice that Jack's arm had slipped out of her grasp. "Jack", she whispered, running to him, and grabbing his hand in the doorway. "You don't really think that-"

"Get dressed, Lizzie. Rough sea ahead of us", he said in a strangely distant tone of voice, without a trace of a smile on his face. He looked at her for a moment yet, but then turned around, and walked down the corridor, followed by Gibbs who shot Elizabeth a concerned look, wondering what had happened.

Elizabeth stood in the doorway, breathing unevenly, desperately trying to understand what had happened. She was cold, so terribly cold, yet she felt her face burning... Hot tears flowing down her cheeks, blurring her vision, as she still stared into the dim corridor long after Jack had climbed up the stairs, disappearing from view.


	56. Chapter 56

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 56**

Jack got on the deck in a hurry, but then stopped abruptly, looked around, and grimaced.

"That'd be what I meant", said Gibbs over his arm in a less than not cheerful tone of voice.

"I see", muttered Jack absently, knitting his eyebrows.

The sky was dark, but at the same time it was strangely bright, as if the dark clouds were glowing, sending off an eerie, greenish light. The sea was dark green, oddly silent, the waves were crushing against the ship heavily, but noiselessly. The waves... hardly look like the waves, actually. The water seemed to be some kind of dense green liquid rather, than a transparent substance. It looked frighteningly bleak and gloomy.

Jack walked to the helm, and hastily overtook the wheel.

"Should we... expect troubles?", asked Gibbs hesitantly, looking around with certain uneasiness.

Jack narrowed his eyes, trying to focus on the helm, trying to focus-

Yet all he could think of was Elizabeth. He should not have just left her there... Especially with- His mouth twitched. He should not have listened to that nonsense. It was not true. It could not be. He briefly closed his eyes remembering her soft kisses on his skin... She was not lying. And he had told her before that they should forget about _that _incident, and now by behaving the way he was behaving he was only showing her that he still remembered... Even though he really did not remember... Or at least he did not think about it _at all_.

"Troubles are what comes when ye look around too much, Master Gibbs", said Jack under his breath, after a pause, when Gibbs had already lost the hope to hear an answer to his question.

"Aye", nodded Gibbs, ceasing to look around, and instead staring out at the sea straight ahead.

"Or when you don't look around enough", added Jack grimly, receiving an unhappily confused look from his first mate.

* * *

"_It's ok. My name's Elizabeth Swann... I'm watching over you, Will."_

Will stood looking at Elizabeth blankly... It could not be nothing more but a nightmare... some eerie illusion... produced by his exhausted mind... a product of too many days, too many weeks, too many months at sea... at that dead, gloomy, mystical sea at World's End...

Because it was not Elizabeth. It was not the girl he had fallen in love with... A little kid with a bright smile... a beautiful girl with enticing eyes... a young woman who had married him... That girl in a man's shirt standing in the doorway with her eyes fixed on a figure of the man who was not worth a single strand of her hair...

She was crying. She was crying, and for some reason he could not bring himself to comfort her... Either because she seemed so distant, or because he simply did not want to comfort her... Not now... Not when she was staring after _him _with such heartbreaking desperation in her eyes...

It vaguely crossed his mind that it was his fault... That he deliberately had said all those... lies? half-truths? his truths? Had he really said them deliberately? Perhaps he half-believed in them... But he was not sure... Looking at her, her desolate gaze, fragile figure, tears, it was painfully clear that she was not intentionally deceiving anyone...

Anyone?

Not Jack, at least. Not Jack...

"What have you done?" Her quiet voice tore him out of his reverie. He blinked, and squinted.

She was still standing in the doorway. And she was still not looking at him.

"What have _I _done?", Will echoed incredulously, his voice harsher than intended.

Elizabeth turned her head, and then stepped inside the cabin, looking at him with glassy eyes. "Yes, you. Why did you do that? Do you really think that, or you just-", she trailed off, and blinked several times to hold back tears, which flowed down her cheeks nevertheless.

"How could _you_ do... all of that, Elizabeth. How could you?", he asked bitterly, half-consciously evading the necessity to answer her question.

She looked at him blankly, as if she did not really know what he was talking about.

Will took a few steps toward her, and stopped, but seeing that she did not move away from him, took a few more steps, and reached for her hand. She cringed, and stepped backwards, and only then he noticed that she was too deep in thought to see him approaching, and that was why she had not moved away.

"I have to talk to him", she whispered more to herself than to him, and turned around, heading for the door.

Will's eyes widened, and he needed a moment to actually realize that she was, in fact, going on deck bare-footed, and in nothing but that shirt. And she did not even care he was here, she did not care that his world had just collapsed, she did not even think how he felt right now. Instead, she was going to _him_...

"Elizabeth!", he exclaimed, and ran after her, grabbing her by the shoulders in the corridor, and spinning her around to face him. "What are you doing?!" He shook her lightly, staring at her with disbelief.

"How could you do that?", she muttered in a faltering tone of voice. "How could you think I could do such thing!", she shouted.

He stared at her in astonishment, not really knowing how it was possible that she was still concerned with _that_ subject only. She glared at him, but despite that gaze she was still... beautiful, and she was still Elizabeth Turner, she was still his wife, and... she was only a victim, wasn't she? The longer he looked into her eyes, the clearer it was to him that it was not her fault, she was not to be blamed for what had happened... She could not have been blamed...

"Elizabeth, I", he started, trying to think of something to say, something that could make her see the truth, the true image of that situation, the truth behind all those lies with which _he_had inveigled her. "I know, I understand... You weren't yourself, I can... understand that, and I can... forgive you, I know you wouldn't... It was not your fault... You-" He stopped when she snatched herself away from his grasp, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Will", she said in a shaky voice, hugging herself nervously. "But it's not like this. I...", she looked away, and swallowed, and then gathered all her courage, and looked back at him, looked him straight in the eye. "I was myself", she stated with hurtful simplicity. "I've never been myself... more..." She looked at his unreadable face for a moment, and then turned around, but all of a sudden Will ran in front of her, blocking her way.

"Elizabeth! Stop it!", he shouted, pulling her toward him.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, as she suddenly focused on him instead of her thoughts about how to, once again, explain everything to Jack.

"Let me go", she muttered, trying to break free, and realizing with astonishment that his grip was surprisingly strong, and despite her efforts she could not pull herself away from him. "Will, please..."

"I don't know what he has done to you, but I know it's not you, it's not your fault", he repeated stubbornly, beginning to believe his own words. When said out loud, they sounded even more believable that they did inside his head... "Elizabeth", he paused, and there was something so strange in his voice, that she froze, stopping her struggles, and looking at him expectantly. "I love you", he whispered.

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, and winced. "Will-"

"You said you loved me. Just several hours ago, on the _Flying Dutchman_", he said hurriedly, as if he wanted to remind her about that, before she managed to deny it.

"I do", she said quietly, opening her eyes, and looking sadly at the trace of a smile that flitted across his lips. "But... I don't", she whispered with a sigh, not really knowing how to explain that to him.

His hands slid down her arms limply, and he looked at her with grim bafflement. She did not want to talk, she did not want to talk to him right now... and maybe even ever... But somehow she felt that she owned him some kind of explanation.

"I don't know why, but after that accident... I had lost it", she darted her eyes to the floor, unable to look at him, not wanting to see the look in his eyes right now. "And then", she swallowed, and continued in a hurried whisper, "even when I got my memory, that memory of the past back, I've never got that feeling back... I just... don't remember that feeling... anymore. I'm sorry, but... I don't remember loving you... I mean I do remember that I loved you, but I don't remember how did it feel like, I don't... feel it. I'm sorry, but I love you... only as a friend. A very dear friend", she added in a quivering voice, and reluctantly lifted her eyes to meet his, stunningly emotionless, boring into hers with blank intensity.

Elizabeth grimaced, holding back tears, and once again turned around to walk away, only to be, again, stopped by him. Was he going to be doing this forever?

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" He looked at her with anxiety, a strange kind of artificial anxiety. It seemed that he just could not stop deceiving himself. "What's happened to you?"

"Leave me alone", replied Elizabeth tiredly, blinking, and feeling her eyes hurting from crying, as they stung every time she blinked. "Let me go", she said distinctly, locking her eyes with his for a moment, her gaze unexpectedly solemn.

"I can't, I won't", Will shook his head, hesitantly at first, but then decidedly. "We're married. And you're my wife", he said, and it frightened him how naively, and all of a sudden how abstractly it had sounded.

Elizabeth freed herself from his embrace angrily. "Do you think that it means anything? That I will sacrifice my entire life only because I half-consciously shouted some... words in the middle of a frantic battle?", she said in a loud, impatient voice, but then fell quiet, half-surprised, half-terrified by her own words.

"Some words... Half-consciously", echoed Will, his eyes wandering around the corridor, until they rested on her face again.

On an impulse, she wanted to say sorry, but... Was she really sorry?

"And just how conscious you were after that accident?" He asked after a pause, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. "I don't understand what you mean", she said defensively, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You lost your memory", he took a step toward her, and she squinted, trying to anticipate his question. If he was going to ask her a question. "You did not remember anybody, and he was a stranger to you as well... Is that correct?", he asked sharply, and Elizabeth shivered, not because of the sharpness of his voice, but rather because of an unfamiliar hint of irony in it. He had never talked like that before. She looked at him, but said nothing. He nodded, as if acknowledging her answer which she had not given. "I just wonder... how long did it take for _a stranger_ to bed you?"

She slapped him not even thinking whether she did that very hard, or not hard at all. His head turned, but he quickly looked back at her, bringing his hand to his cheek.

"How dare you", whispered Elizabeth, glaring at him with glassy eyes.

"How dare _I_?", Will echoed angrily, surprising her by grabbing her by the wrists, and pulling her towards him.

"That hurts", she hissed, taken aback by his behaviour. She had never thought him capable of treating her in such a manner, yet, she felt responsible for it. It was her fault, after all. At least in a way...

"You know what hurts, Elizabeth?", he said under his breath, staring at her with desperation, but also with a glimpse of strange fury in his eyes. "It hurts when you love somebody more than anything in this world, that you love somebody that much that you would do anything, that you _did _everything you could for that person, and then that person deceives you, betrays you, and announces you that you may go, and vanish because she _doesn't remember that feeling anymore_", he whispered through his gritted teeth, tightening, perhaps even unconsciously his grip around her wrists.

Elizabeth gasped. "It really hurts", she said almost inaudibly, wincing, and looking at him through the tears that began to flow down her face again.

"Yes, it really hurts", he replied sternly, looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to say something, only he was not sure what exactly did he want, or at least hope, to hear.

Elizabeth looked at him ruefully, wriggling her hands to no avail. She felt sorry for him, but she wanted him to leave her alone... at last. What was he going to do? Why couldn't he just let her go? _I have to talk to Jack, _she thought exhaustedly, as if it was the only one important thing at the moment. Strangely, the name itself, the name alone made her feel better, and safe, and loved... As if all the beautiful feelings were enclosed in those four letters...

"You want to know how long did it take him?", she asked angrily, hoping that after what she was going to say Will would let her go. "Infinitely longer that it would, if I remembered him!", she shouted, simultaneously trying to break free, and this time succeeding, but as soon as he let go of her hands, and before she had time to walk away, she felt his hand making contact with her face... She gasped in shock, and looked up at him wide-eyed, meeting his terrified gaze. He looked at her with dismay.

"Elizabeth, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to...", he whispered in a cracking voice, reaching for her, but she moved backwards very quickly, one hand on her cheek, the other outstretched, showing him to stay away from her.

"Don't ever talk to me again", she said slowly, looking at him with cold intensity, before turning around, and running down the corridor, and up on the deck very quickly, and noiselessly, her bare feet making virtually no sound on the wooden stairs.

Will grimaced, and groaned, covering his face with his hands, and shaking his head in desperation, and sorrow, that was tearing him apart mercilessly, leaving him in the dim corridor alone with his grim thoughts.

* * *

Elizabeth ran on deck breathing heavily, her breath suddenly catching in her throat at the sight before, and around her. Thin, green (_how can it be green?_) mist hung in the air matched by the humming of waves which looked as if they were made of greenish grease rather than water. The sky was dark, and there was a strange, dark green glow spread across the horizon. 

Elizabeth hugged herself protectively, the wind tugging on her shirt, and smacking her bare feet, making it difficult for her to walk. Depending on her memory rather than at her vision at the moment, she made her way to the helm, relieved when Jack's silhouette came into view.

"Jack!", she called climbing up the small staircase, heading for the helm.

He glanced at her briefly with apparent indifference, his eyebrows furrowed, and looked away, but then darted his eyes back to her, this time with dismay.

"The helm!", Jack bellowed to nobody in particular, letting go of the wheel, and not even checking whether somebody managed to catch it on time, although luckily Gibbs in fact managed to grab it before it spun out of control.

"Lizzie, heaven's sake, what are ye bloody doin' here in that?!", he shouted at her, pulling his coat hurriedly off his shoulders, and flinging it around hers, pulling her closer. "Ye'll freeze to death", he muttered irritedly.

"Jack, you have to believe me", she whispered in a faltering voice, putting her hands on his arms, and trying to make him look in her eyes, but he was rather more preoccupied with making sure that the coat was tightly wrapped around her.

"If ye want t'be here, go below, get dressed., there must be those clothes from that last storm somewhere-", he went on gruffly, but she cut him off.

"Jack!", she clutched the fabric of his shirt on his shoulders. "Listen, please, you can't think that I-"

"An' no shoes!?", he almost screamed, noticing her bare feet, and apparently paying no attention to what she was saying.

"Jack!", Elizabeth sobbed, frustrated, but trailed off, when he all of a sudden lifted her up, took her in his arms, and carried her from the deck.

Her mind half-consciously registered that there was no Will in the corridor anymore.

Jack kicked the Captain's Quarters door opening it wider, and carried her inside the bedroom, where he dropped her on the bed unceremoniously.

"Ye can either stay here, or-"

Elizabeth quickly pulled herself to a standing position, and then almost jumping off the bed, threw herself into his arms, forcing him to wrap his arms around her so she would not fall. His back hit the wall, and he growled, but then her lips came crushing down on his, relocating his thoughts from contemplating the feeling of pain, to contemplating totally different emotions.

For a brief moment he tried not to respond to the kiss, but then gave in sooner than she thought he would, tightening his embrace around her, and kissing her with ardent ferocity, and passion that made her feel as if she was flying with unimaginable speed across the night, starry sky on a magical carpet her mother had read her about.

Yet, she forced herself to break (much to Jack's audible disappointment) the kiss, and tilt her head backwards if only slightly to look at him intently. He reluctantly opened his eyes, and she felt hot shivers running up her spine when his fiery black gaze rested on her face, his breath caressing her skin, making all, but one of her thoughts melt and disappear, leaving only one image and only one word in her mind: _Jack_.

But then he wrinkled his forehead, and a dreamily disappointed expression on his face turned into an angry one. "What is that?", he asked with a grimace, tenderly brushing his fingers along her slightly redder, than the other one, cheek.

She did not answer, instead she kissed his lips very lightly, and smiled faintly. "Do you believe me?", she whispered.

Jack narrowed his eyes, suddenly struck by an idea. "I'll smash his bloody face", he muttered, gently pushing Elizabeth away, and heading for the door, but she ran in front of him, and closed the door, leaning against it.

"Jack, no", Elizabeth shook her head, and wrapped her arms around Jack's neck, kissing the corner of his mouth, and watching his eyes fluttering shut.

"I will", he insisted, sneaking his hands under the coat, and around Elizabeth's waist, and then lower, where there was no more of _his _shirt covering her body.

Elizabeth gasped, pulling him closer, and trailing open-mouthed kisses on his neck. He buried his head in her hair, moving his hands up her body, reaching her shoulders, and sliding his coat off her arms, and down to the floor.

"I know", he whispered into her ear, kissing it. "I know you there was no time to tell me... I know you didn't... you wouldn't... you didn't want to", he paused, slipping his hand underneath Elizabeth's (_his_) shirt, and stroking her soft skin with his palm. "I'm sorry, it was just... unexpected..."

"Yes", was Elizabeth's only response, a quiet moan rather than a word, and he could not tell whether she was acknowledging his explanation, or perhaps meaning... something else.

Jack smirked, tilted back his head, and looked at her with his eyes narrowed.

Elizabeth slowly opened her eyes. "What?", she pouted quietly, running her hand through his dreadlocks.

"You're beautiful, luv", he said in a low voice, pressing his lips to hers.

"I thought you had something new to say", retorted Elizabeth with a chuckle. Jack opened his eyes, and looked at her, offended.

"I wouldn't advise ye, darling Lizzie on starting the discussion who is, in fact, less original in his, _her _remarks", stated Jack with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes, lightly running his fingernails up her back.

"Oh?", Elizabeth smiled, tracing the outline of his lips with her fingertips. "And why is that?", she asked, quickly withdrawing her hand, before he managed to kiss it.

Jack grimaced, but then grinned, pinning her against the door, and making it almost impossible for her to breath with his chest pressed to hers so tightly. "'Cause", he started in a husky whisper, catching the fabric of the shirt that covered her thigh, and slowly pulling it upwards, "then I'd have to say that it gets unbearably boring for me to be hearing the same phrase over and over again all the time as well."

"And what phrase, Captain Sparrow, would that be?", asked Elizabeth, her voice gradually quietening down, when he leaned forward, kissing the side of her face, and then sliding his lips down, and grazing her neck, listening contentedly to her sharp intakes of breath. He smiled, and kissed her fiercely, his hands moving up to cup her breasts.

He broke the kiss just for a moment long enough to let her catch her breath, and whisper "Oh God Jack". He grinned against her mouth, before claiming it again. "That'd be it, luv", he informed her amusedly.

Elizabeth broke the kiss, and narrowed her eyes with mock annoyance, when the ship suddenly jerked, sending them both to the floor.

"Bugger", muttered Jack irritatedly, snapping back to the reality, the words_ Ghost Sea _springing up in his mind. He should not have left the helm. "Ye all right, 'Lizbeth?", he asked helping her to stand up, grabbing his coat, and putting it on.

"Yes", replied Elizabeth, smiling hesitantly. "What was that, Jack?"

"Can't say for certain", he answered enigmatically, wrinkling his forehead. "Lizzie", he put his hands on her shoulders. "I think ye should stay here", he said authoritatively, receiving only a charming smirk in response. He rolled his eyes, and sighed resignedly. "Get dressed, then, and come on deck", he muttered, wrinkling his nose.

Elizabeth smiled at him sweetly. "I want to be with you all the time and everywhere", she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"And why is that?", he asked in a low voice, burying his hands in her hair, a smirk flickering across his lips.

"I don't know", said Elizabeth tilting her head to the side, and brushing her lips against his.

"Ah", smirked Jack. "Then I think later I'll have to help ye finding out_ why_, luv", whispered Jack, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss, before pulling away with a pout.

Elizabeth laughed, watching him storm off the cabin, and smiled to herself, thinking- No, she scolded herself quickly. There was no time for _thinking_. She looked around, and then ran to the other cabin where the trunks were, to look for clothes. The storm... In one of those trunks should be the clothes Jack had given her when they were sailing through that storm.

She squatted down, opened one of the trunks, and looked through it. Dresses. She smiled at the memory of that day when the boxes had been delivered to her room... And the wife of the inn's owner... Well, she was actually right. Jack definitely had not had the most transparent of intentions. She giggled, closing the trunk, and opening the next one.

With her back turned toward the door, she heard somebody come in. Following her train of thought, she said smilingly without thinking: "Wish to help me get dressed?" And then she immediately regretted it, as it crossed her mind that perhaps it was not Jack, but Will.

She quickly stood up, and turned around with apprehension.

"Certainly not the kind of offer I'd be disinclined to acquiesce to."

Elizabeth blinked.


	57. Chapter 57

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 57**

"Master Gibbs!", Jack approached the helm, adjusting his hat... _Bugger. _Or rather _intending to_ adjust it, since it was not there._ Maybe Lizzie will bring it... _He blinked, and smiled. It had sounded like-

"Cap'n!", called Gibbs in a loud voice, interrupting Jack's thoughts.

_...it sounded like a husband thinkin' 'bout his wife..._

_...Mrs. Sparrow..._

_...marr-i-age... We've got to get back to that conversation, luv, aye?..._

"What was that... movement?", asked Jack overtaking the helm, and suppressing a smirk.

Gibbs grimaced. "It seems that somethin' hit the starboard", he stated uncertainly.

"Or the starboard hit somethin'", Jack shot him a stern look.

"Aye. Hard t'say in this", Gibbs looked around doubtfully, "mist", he finished, not very convinced that it was the best word to describe that strange, green, dense _air _that hung above the ship, and the sea.

"It ain't mist, Mr. Gibbs", replied Jack, looking straight ahead.

"It ain't?", Gibbs blinked, not very happy with that kind of clarification. "What is it, then?", he asked, with a facial expression clearly indicating that he would rather not hear the answer.

"Spirits, Mister Gibbs", replied Jack. Gibbs stared at him dumbfounded. "It's the Ghost Sea. It's not named after nothin'."

Gibbs sighed. "I knew it's bad luck t'have-", he thoughtlessly blurted out, but then paused abruptly, meeting Jack's stern gaze. "To have... Barbossa on board, aye?", he finished almost cheerfully, happy to quickly come up with a suitable answer.

"Aye", agreed Jack, giving him a long, meaningful look. Gibbs smiled brightly in a slightly apologetic manner. "An' speakin' of... _that_", started Jack disgustedly after a pause. "Send somebody to get that... _chartman_. Now is when we're finally needin' his bloody chart."

* * *

"If you want to speak to Jack, he is at the helm", said Elizabeth stiffly. "And I would like to be left alone now, so-" 

"No need t'be impolite", cut in Barbossa, slamming the cabin's door shut.

Elizabeth cringed at the noise. "What do you want?", she asked sharply, taking a step backwards.

"Ye know", continued Barbossa, walking toward the fallen desk without looking at her. "It was a very smart move t'make young Mr. Turner think that ye knew 'bout that deathly proviso."

Elizabeth bent down, and picked up a random dressing gown from the open trunk, quickly put it on over Jack's shirt, and wrapped her arms around herself to hold it in place. "I don't know what you mean", she said angrily. _What does he bloody want? The key? _She scanned the floor, but could not see the key anywhere, but then she remembered that she had seen Will holding the key. So he had picked it up, and taken it. Subconsciously, she glanced at her hand. She almost forgot about _them... _She was still wearing both rings. He had the key back... So now she should give him the wedding ring back too... And then it will be over... At last... At least in a sense...

_Mrs. Sparrow..._

For some reason she felt a twinge of regret at the thought that she will not be able to have that title... If only she was not married... But... even if she was not married would Jack proposed to her?...

"_Marr-i-age..."_

Would he _really_ want to marry her? Marry... Get married... Being a pirate... She snorted. Being _Captain Jack Sparrow_.

"But there's a problem, ye see."

Elizabeth snapped back into the reality at the sound of Barbossa's unpleasantly ominous tone of voice. _Damn you Jack. Distracting me even when you're not here. _She suppressed a smile, and wrinkled her forehead in irritation.

Barbossa stepped on the maps and papers scattered on the floor, and for a moment she thought that he had done it accidentally, but soon she noticed that he walked across that part of the cabin purposefully leaving the traces of his dirty boots on the maps and charts. "'Cause by doin' that, ye incidentally discarded one of two reasons for which I was transiently inclined t'keep yer adulterous company alive." He turned around, and looked at her, narrowing his eyes.

Elizabeth looked at him observantly. "I'm afraid I'm not following", she said through her gritted teeth.

Barbossa smiled. "I was goin' t'have 'im hand the drink to yer husband in exchange for havin' yer husband hand a drink to me, but 'cause of Mr. Turner's stupidity, an' yer superfluous craftiness, this scheme has unfortunately... demised", he said widening his eyes in a sneer.

"I am genuinely sorry to hear that", replied Elizabeth sardonically, trying to cover up her confusion. Was Will... plotting with _him_?! As ridiculous as it sounded, it actually made sense... How would Will had known about that proviso otherwise? Yes. It even made _too much_ sense, actually... _Will, what have you done?_

"Oh, I'm sure ye do. Especially that the second reason is, regretfully, discarded already as well."

"And that'd be?", she asked with annoyance, scanning her surrounding in search for some kind of weapon. A pirate should always have a weapon at hand. Not to mention a Pirate King. _Even a bare-footed Pirate King in a blue, silk dressing gown_, she thought with a snort.

"The map", answered Barbossa with a grin, looking her up and down with his eyes narrowed, which made her feel oddly scared all of a sudden. And she was not easy to scare. Elizabeth shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore that ridiculous sense of danger. "It was necessary to get to the Ghost Sea, but since we're at the Ghost Sea now, there's nothin' more but my chart that leads the way to Aqua de Vida. The map is superfluous. An' so is its owner."

Elizabeth knitted her eyebrows, quickly processing what he had just said, and coming to the conclusion that it was slightly too lucid... "Is this a friendly warning or a friendly threat?", she asked disdainfully, glaring at him.

Barbossa's lips stretched into a grin. "Could be both", he said after a moment of mock consideration. "But it's neither", he added, making a few steps toward her.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, trying to appear annoyed. And while she really was annoyed, there was also something else... Something that was making her think of running out of the cabin at once. _Coward_, she thought grumpily, at the same time thinking whether being brave was always the wisest thing to do.

"So what is it?", she asked irritatedly.

He grinned again, taking a green apple out of his pocket. He looked at it for a moment, before extending his hand to Elizabeth. "A subject to negotiations", he said in a low voice.

Elizabeth glanced at the apple, then looked back at him, and angrily knocked the apple out of his hand, whirling around, and heading for the door, but before she reached the doorknob, he grabbed her, and tossed her against the wall. "It's rather impolite t'be leavin' in the middle of a conversation", he said in a low voice, squinting.

* * *

Gibbs sighed. "An' how many days of that, Jack?", he asked, regarding the surroundings, and finding it strange that despite the general eeriness and the unarguable fact that he would rather not be here at all, there was something beautiful, maybe even alluring in that greenish semi-darkness which they were sailing through. 

"Two or three", answered Jack, tapping the spokes thoughtfully.

"An'... we're there?", asked Gibbs almost cheerfully.

"Aye. We should", replied Jack without a smile. What was the use of getting to the Fountain if they could not drink from it? Technically... _"It's not worth it." _Villanueva was right. Bloody bastard couldn't have just told them what he had known? Still, there should be a way to overcome that obstacle. There are loopholes in every scheme, every curse... And now they had two or three days to come up with a solution.

"Three days ain't much", observed Gibbs with a cautious smile. "Especially with the immortality on the horizon."

"There's no immortality on the horizon, unless you're willing to kill for it."

Jack and Gibbs simultaneously turned their heads. Will stood at the small stairway leading to the helm. Jack narrowed his eyes. Gibbs wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Kill?", he asked with a nervous smile.

"Can't find 'im, Cap'n!", called Pintel cutting off Will's opportunity to answer Gibbs' question.

"What ye mean?", Jack darted his eyes to Pintel and Ragetti who emerged from below the deck, and quickly approached the helm.

Pintel shrugged his shoulders. "We've looked in 'is cabin, in the hold, in the brig, in the cellars, at the ste-"

"I checked the crow nest", broke in Ragetti in a somewhat proud tone of voice.

Pintel rolled his eyes. "Haven't finished yet sayin' where _I _checked!", he said irritatedly through his gritted teeth.

"Shut it!", cut in Jack impatiently, before Ragetti managed to speak again. Pintel and Ragetti cringed. "I didn't bloody tell ye to _check_ anythin'. I told ye to bloody _find_ 'im", he said with a more than a trace of annoyance in his voice.

"I'll better go with them", offered Gibbs, and the three of them headed for the stairs.

Jack looked after them, and then, omitting Will who was still standing on the stairs, looked straight ahead again. Will stood motionlessly, not knowing what to do. A moment ago he had just wanted to shoot him, then he had wanted to beat him to death, then... he had not care, suddenly overwhelmed by cold indifference. But then again... the image of half-naked Elizabeth strolling confidently around _that_ cabin... her voice... melodic and cheerful... It was enough. And he felt again that he could just shoot him without giving it a second thought. And then it would be over... He would be gone. Forever. And maybe then she- No. She will not. Hadn't she made that clear? Why couldn't he just accept it? Will closed his eyes for a moment, and clenched his fists. He could not accept it. No matter what, he could not accept it... It was wrong, it was only some cruel mistake... She just did not know what she was doing... She just did not know...

"Unless ye made it up", Jack's voice broke into Will's thoughts, shaking him out of his reverie, "it's endlessly interesting how did ye know 'bout that curse bestowed upon Aqua de Vida."

Jack kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. Probably even if he wanted to look at Will it would be impossible to see him due to the thickening green mist slowly encompassing the _Black Pearl_ and weaving a perfectly non-transparent veil of fog around her. It was a good idea to ask him a question not only because it might be, in fact, useful to hear his answer, but because it was a good way to sense the direction in which his thoughts were heading at the moment.

Will looked at Jack's silhouette, less and less visible, as the mist was obscuring the view at a strangely hurried rate. Jack's voice seemed to be coming out of nowhere.

"I did not make it up", answered Will almost tonelessly, not really knowing why he was talking to him at all. He did not want to talk to him, he did not want to look at him (so it was good that at the moment he could not see him very clearly); he just wanted to kill him.

Yet, the word "kill" seemed so distant, so blank, as if it carried no meaning. He felt well-nigh obliged to think it, but there was nothing behind that abstract thought. In fact, he did not care. He did not care whether that man lived or died. He did not care about him.

But he did care about her. And he loved her. Still. With frustrating consistency. Unlike her, he remembered very well what that feeling felt like, because he still felt it. And there was nothing he could do about it. Not now; not yet; if ever...

"Who told ye that then, I wonder?" Jack's nearly bored voice, with a very slight trace of irony in it, flowed to him across the greenish air. The question sounded as if it had been already answered by the very person who was asking it.

He was about to say "Elizabeth", but he was tired of all those games. Had she really known about that proviso? He had thought she had, but... Perhaps she was only pretending.

"I'm sure you can figure that out", replied Will drily, once again overwhelmed by a strange feeling as if it all was not real, as if it all was not really happening.

But it was happening.

Even though he still could not understand why it was happening _to him_.

He could almost see, in his mind's eye, a faint smirk flickering across Jack's face. And there was nothing he hated more at the moment. Because, for some reason, he was certain that _she _loved that smirk, and the thought was making him feel sick.

"Ye surely have a very bad sense of people, choosin' such allies."

Will looked up, and he was almost certain that Jack was looking into his direction. But now he could not see even his silhouette anymore.

"I did notice how bad my sense of people is", answered Will sourly, gritting his teeth. Suddenly, without giving it a further thought, he pulled out his pistol, and cocked it. The sound echoed strangely in the dense air. "Any last wishes?", asked Will, his voice cracking involuntarily. The pistol feeling surprisingly heavy, as he tried to hold it steadily in his hand.

There was a moment of silence, disturbed only by humming of the waves breaking through the almost soundless deck.

"Put it away", came a slightly nonchalant reply.

Will narrowed his eyes, even though it did not improve his vision. "What?", he asked irritatedly.

"Put it away. It's the last wish. Can't refuse it, ye know."

Will sighed with impatience, keeping his pistol pointed into the green mist.

* * *

"Leave me alone!", shouted Elizabeth, struggling with all her strength to break free from his grasp, but, to her surprise, all her efforts were in vain, as his hands that kept hers pinned against the wall did not even move an inch. She had used to think that she was strong, that if she _really _wanted she could snatched herself away from everybody's grip and from any entrapment. But right now, and not without some kind of shock was she forced to acknowledge the fact, that sometimes she was completely helpless. And she did not like that feeling. She did not like that feeling at all. 

"I haven't finished yet", hissed Barbossa with a glint of pure anger in his eyes.

"Go away!", she screamed into his face, and he had to close his eyes for a moment, at the sudden loudness of her voice.

But when he opened his eyes again, his anger seemed to reach yet a higher level, and the coldly sarcastic look in his narrowed eyes sent icy cold shivers up her spine.

"What do you bloody want!", shouted Elizabeth trying to keep her voice from quivering. She felt her heart beating furiously in her chest, and with dismay she suddenly realized that she was afraid. She really was afraid.

"Aye", said Barbossa sneeringly with a grimace. "It ain't a very lady-like way of talkin'."

Elizabeth glared at him disdainfully, and tried to free her hands, once again failing to do so. He snarled, moving his face closer to hers, and it alerted her, as she looked at him wide-eyed with fury flashing in her eyes. But there was also something else beside fury in her gaze, and he did not fail to notice that as well: fear. She was scared, fear surfacing in her eyes, despite all her efforts to hide it.

"I thought ye might be interested in the method of savin' yer lover. But I guess ye're not interested, therefore I'm free t'kill 'im, I reckon", said Barbossa in a low, scratchy voice, tilting his head to the side. Elizabeth grimaced and closed her eyes at the disgusting feeling of his breath brushing her face as he spoke. "I may actually decide on sparin' his pitiful life, an' that on only two simple conditions. I believe that's the deal worth listenin' to."

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and taking him by surprise kicked him, causing him to let go of her hands. Catching the opportunity of him losing his balance for a moment, she pushed him away quite easily, rushing to the door, and opening it, but before she ran out of the cabin, she screamed as he pulled her by her hair, dragging her back inside.

"Jack!", she screamed, before the door slammed shut again, but the word almost caught in her throat when he slapped her, almost knocking her over. Elizabeth gasped in shock, terrified, not quite believing what was happening. How did he dare? What was he doing?

She tried to calm down, tried to think that Jack was waiting for her on deck, and that _at some point_ he would begin to worry what was taking her so long, and then he will surely come to check on her, and then everything will be all right, everything will be-

"I offer ye a choice one more time, an' it's yer very last chance so do think twice before doin' something stupid once again", he whispered hoarsely, a look of cold seriousness glistening in his eyes. Elizabeth winced from pain, as his fingernails almost cut through her skin, when he tightened his grip on her wrists. "Yers damn captain's life, for makin' yer cursed husband hand me the water as it was settled until he unwisely decided t'break our little agreement. The most benevolent condition imaginable, as he's immortal so it won't even hurt a single strand of hair on his stupid head." Elizabeth stared at him considering screaming again. Or kicking him again, and then screaming. Somebody must have heard her. It was not raining. There were people all around the ship. "The second condition", started Barbossa after a pause, "is even simpler." He grinned, leaning forward, and it took Elizabeth a moment to decipher his absolutely incomprehensible intention, as it had never crossed her mind before that something like that might happen. Breaking free was impossible so she did the only other thing that came to her mind at the moment: she spat in his face before he managed to kiss her.

He closed his eyes, and there was a brief moment of ill-boding silence before he opened them again. "Ye really shouldn't have done that", he said in a low, hollow voice, narrowing his eyes.


	58. Chapter 58

A/N: _**Thank you very much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Dear CJS (& all my dear readers who may wonder how many more chapters there are going to be...) Definitely more than 7... But I'm afraid that whether more than 7 means 8 or 50, my vague storyline planning doesn't allow me to predict...:)

Spoiler: ...I think that'd be a nice chapter for Halloween, but I have a feeling you wouldn't like to wait that long for an update...;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 58**

"I _will_ shoot you", said Will in a determined tone of voice after a longer moment of silence, even though in that thick green fog he already could not see his own outstretched hand, not to mention his target. He took a few blind steps forward toward where he believed the helm was. A vague silhouette appeared in front of him, and he immediately put his pistol to the side of the figure's head.

Cotton very cautiously turned his head and looked at Will questioningly, with a baffled expression on his face.

Will's hand dropped to his side, as he looked in the eyes of the elderly sailor that stood at the helm. He blinked, and then sighed irritatedly. "Where did he go?", he asked with sharp grimness.

Cotton shrugged his shoulders, pointing in the general direction... around them. Will put his pistol back behind his belt, and walked away, trying to find the stairs leading below deck.

* * *

"We've already been here", observed Ragetti following Pintel into the galley. 

"Shut up!", Pintel waved his hand at him in annoyance. "I'm hungry. I be no runnin' 'round like an idiot when I'm hungry", he stated decidedly, grabbing some cold meat that was still on the table. "It's in the code!", he shouted, causing Ragetti to cringe. "Or at least it should be", he added with a shrug.

"What's in the code?", asked Ragetti interestedly, biting into a yellow fruit, and then spitting it out with a grimace.

Pintel knitted his eyebrows, huffing with irritation, and presenting Ragetti with a knife. "Ye ain't eatin' the damn skin, ye half-headed mongrel!"

Ragetti took the knife and blinked. "I ain't think they use such _coloquial_ words in the codex", he said doubtfully in a low voice.

Pintel rolled his eyes, and sighed, intending to take a bite of his meat, but stopping in mid-action at the sudden sight of Gibbs. Pintel smiled and looked under the table. "Not here", he said in a hesitant tone of voice. Ragetti hid the fruit he was eating behind his back.

"Check the brig", ordered Gibbs looking at them disapprovingly, rushing out of the galley to check other cabins in the main corridor.

* * *

Jack felt a bit uneasy about leaving Cotton at the helm at the moment, but he _rather_ believed that Will was not going to shoot after all... He had talked too much. _And much talking rarely leads to much shooting_, he thought reassuringly, heading for his cabin. 

He decided to tell (_try _to tell...) Elizabeth to stay below after all. It was not safe on deck right now. The visibility was none, and there were just too many weird things that could happen. He had never sailed across the Ghost Sea before, but he had heard a fine amount of not-so-fine stories...

He paused before putting his hand on the door knob. The door was ajar. Jack wrinkled his forehead, and pushed the door open.

He walked inside. The main room as well as the side cabin were both empty. Had she gone on deck already? Maybe she had got lost in the mist? He wanted to hurry out of the cabin, but then he noticed Elizabeth's boots on the floor. She would not have gone out on deck without her boots again, would she?

Something was wrong.

Jack came back to the main cabin, and looked around. Nothing seemed out of order, except for one trunk being open, and some clothes thrown on the floor, but that was not surprising as she must have been getting dressed. He looked around again, frowning, and was about to leave, when his mind registered something. He quickly took a few steps towards his desk that, knocked over by Will, still lay on its side. But it was not the desk that caught his attention.

Jack looked down at the floor... And at the traces of boots on the scattered papers.

* * *

Elizabeth fell to the floor, wincing, as she felt the bandage that she still had on her arm (after the broken mast accident) come off, and the gush, almost healed, now began hurting again. But she would rather have him throwing her all around the room against the floor and furniture than- 

When had that happen? Why hadn't she noticed anything? She always considered herself so observant, and yet she had never seen that coming. And when she was on the _Black Pearl_ for the first time he had never- But... then there was the curse...

"_I feel nothing - not the wind on my face nor the spray of the sea, nor the warmth of a woman's flesh."_

She felt a wave of nausea at the thought what would have happened if there was no curse back then.

He picked her up, grabbing her by the wrists.

..._And now there was no curse_, she thought half-consciously.

"I came to think that ye're actually right", he said, pushing her against the wall. Elizabeth managed to snatched one hand away from his grip, and hit him, pushing his face away with her fist, but he caught her hand, and crashed it against the wall. Elizabeth screamed, her voice cracking, and she had an impression that it was coming out strangely quiet, even though she felt as if she was screaming on top of her lungs. "All those deals and agreements", he continued in a sneering voice, his eyes wandering around her face. "In the end, they ne'er work. I admit that it was a poorly concocted idea."

Elizabeth writhed as much as she could putting all her strength in her every move, every attempt to break free. Soon she began to feel completely exhausted, and even breathing seemed to be a task almost too hard to do. She took a deep breath, and gathering all her strength, screamed for help, and this time she thought that her voice was loud enough to be heard outside of his cabin. And perhaps it was loud, because Barbossa narrowed his eyes in annoyance, and when she wanted to scream again she felt something cold pressed against her throat.

"Yer next scream will be yer last one, so ye may consider keepin' yer pretty mouth shut. Unless I tell ye to open it and use it for something else than shoutin'", he added in a low voice.

"He will kill you", whispered Elizabeth through her gritted teeth, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She did not want to cry. She did not want to show that she was afraid. Afraid... She was petrified, more than she thought she ever might. After so many disasters that had happened to her, so many deaths she had witnessed, she thought that there was nothing that would scare her, nothing that could take her courage away from her. She did not fear death. And she had thought that it was the most important thing. What could be worse than death? She had thought that there was nothing worse than death...

But there was.

Barbossa chuckled. "I don't think so", he said widening his eyes, and slowly drawing the knife across her neck, and then up the side of her face. "I rather think it'll be _me_ who will kill _him_, an' have _ye_", he said with smile, placing the cold blade across her lips. Elizabeth cringed, and looked at him with all the disdain and hatred she could muster. If the look could kill...

But it couldn't.

"Then", continued Barbossa, suddenly whirling her around, and only by a mere chance, despite being caught off guard, she managed to turn her head so her face did not smash against the wall. With few quick movements he tied something around her wrists, and before Elizabeth realized what was happening, he turned her around again, pressing her against the wall, her hands now tied behind her. "Then", he slid his hand into her hair, pushing her face closer to his. "Master Turner serve me Aqua de Vida under the threat of killin' ye", Elizabeth began shaking her head, trying to shake his hand off her face, but to no avail. Barbossa snorted, putting the knife to her throat again, but she did not care. She shifted her head violently, but then gasped, terrified, feeling the blade actually cutting her skin. "See? It's not a smart thing to do."

Elizabeth felt a thin stream of blood running down her neck, and he followed the flow of blood with the tip of the knife. "Then", he continued his previous train of thought. "I'll give him the drink so he gets his _precious_ mortality back, which, very conveniently, will make it all easier t'kill 'im, and afterwards I'll take _my two ships_ to Shipwreck Cove for a certain votin'", he paused, sliding the knife past her collarbones. "An' then continue on havin' _ye_ until I get tired of it. That sounds like a better plan, don't ye think?", he leaned down, and she tried to pull away, but he kept his hand on the back of her head, making it impossible for Elizabeth to tilt her head backwards.

He smiled sardonically at her efforts, and pushed her mouth against his, kissing her forcefully.

She felt a wave of pain washing over her, and she did not know whether it was coming from her heart, her head, that... kiss, or that devastating feeling of helplessness. She tried to pull away, but it was almost as if her struggle existed only in her imagination, because in the reality she could not do anything, she could not move, she could not scream. She gritted her teeth, sealed her lips together, feeling as if she was falling apart, as if she was dying; fear coursing through her body like black, cold water.

He pulled away, and she burst into tears, shaking spasmodically, her face contorted and frighteningly pale. She sobbed uncontrollably, overcome by the feeling of absolute disgust. She tried to free her hands, pulling on the rope around her wrists until it was digging into her skin. But to no avail.

Barbossa opened his eyes, and licked his lips. "He always had a good _taste_ in women", he said in a scratchy whisper, grinning.

Elizabeth tried to scream, but when she opened her mouth, no sound came, and she could not stop shaking, overpowered by some strange kind of abstract panic and dismay at her inability to scream out loud while there was nothing else on her mind but screaming. Yet, it was as if her voice had been taken away from her, dousing the last flames of hope that flickered across her mind.

But then all of a sudden a single flame flashed before her tears-veiled eyes... Or rather she had an impression that something had flashed... Nothing had flashed... Or had it?...

But it was not an image, it was a sound.

And it take her another moment to realize that it was the sound of a pistol being fired.

_Jack._

Barbossa muttered something under his breath, and pulled her away from the wall, placing her in front of him, and pressing the knife against her throat exactly when the door burst open, the lock falling down on the floor along with the bullet that had broken it.

"I'm impressed. I... _We_ haven't expected ye so soon", said Barbossa with a dry smile.

Jack stormed in, the anger in his eyes quickly overshadowed by dismay at the sight of Elizabeth shaking, and sobbing, with the knife pressed against her throat, blood on her neck, tears on her pale face, and the look of despair in her eyes.

"Let her go. Now", Jack outstretched his hand, and aimed his pistol at Barbossa's head, as it was the only part of him left that was not involuntarily shielded by Elizabeth.

Barbossa snarled, and shook his head with a grimace of mock-disappointment. "Jack. I really expected more of ye. I'm afraid ye have to come up with a more thought-provoking statement."

Elizabeth stared at Jack comforted by a plain fact of his presence. She tried to smile, if only to make him feel better, as he was glancing at her with pain and guilt clearly visible in his eyes, and she did not want him to feel guilty. It was not his fault, even though he must have been blaming himself for not anticipating, for failing to predict that something like that might happen.

"What the hell are ye doing?", Jack glared at Barbossa with fury, his voice low, and cold.

"Ye've a very bad timin'. We were just beginnin' to enjoy ourselves. Ye should know better than t'interrupt...", said Barbossa with a sardonic smile, one hand still holding the knife on Elizabeth's neck, the other wrapped around her waist, pressing her closer to him.

Elizabeth grimaced, fresh tears welling in her eyes, and she was angry with herself. Angry and disappointed. Why couldn't she just _pretend_ that she was strong and brave. Her sobs were surely not going to help Jack think clearly, but somehow that fear was stronger than all her chaotic, reasonable thoughts.

And Jack was indeed not able to think clearly. Not with her face contorted with utter dismay. He had never seen her in such a state. He had never seen her so terrified.

"I won't say it again", said Jack in a distinct whisper, his finger on the trigger. There was no other way. He told himself that he was not too far away, he would not miss. Even with Elizabeth's head so close, he had to shoot. He clenched his jaw, concentrating.

"In case ye'd decide t'shoot", started Barbossa in a sardonically matter-of-fact tone of voice. "Ye may want first t'answer yerself a question: if I shot him, would he have enough time, before falling to the floor and dying, t'make a quick, linear movement with his hand, that would slice her throat?", he said with mock thoughtfulness, then raised his eyebrows expectantly, and smiled.

Jack wanted to retort, but his response was cut off by Gibbs who suddenly ran into the cabin, noticing the door being open, and wanting to check-

He froze at the sight, his eyes widening.

"Ah, the audience", Barbossa grinned.

Gibbs looked from Jack to Barbossa and Elizabeth. He was actually not looking for Barbossa at the moment. He had left the task to Pintel and Ragetti, while he had gone to find Jack to tell him that he was needed at the helm. The waves were growing, and darkening, and there seemed to be a storm coming up. It was drizzling already, and the sea looked dangerously bizarre (as far as it was even possible to see the sea through the thickening greenish fog), and the wind was picking up. But how was he supposed to tell him now that he should go take the helm?

The ship jerked slightly, throwing everybody out of balance for a moment. Jack shot a questioning look at Gibbs.

Gibbs swallowed. "It began to rain", he said in a low voice, wrinkling his forehead.

Barbossa chuckled, tilting his head to the side. "It seems that ye've t'go", he grinned. "But don't worry, we ain't goin' anywhere. We'll wait for ye right here. An' don't hurry up all that much", he added in a mockingly reassuring tone of voice. "We'll find something to occupy ourselves with while ye'll be gone."

Elizabeth's face twitched, and she tried to push all the thoughts away from her mind. She tried not to think about anything. She tried not to think that Jack might leave to take the helm, and steer the ship through the storm. She dropped her gaze to the floor, afraid that if she looked at him he would see the absolute horror in her eyes, and she did not want for him to see it...

The ship shifted under their feet again, and the sound of rain pounding against small cabin windows filled the cabin.

Gibbs nervously rubbed his forehead, but did not dare to say anything. Barbossa raised his eyebrows, a sneer flickering across his face.

"Mr. Gibbs", called Jack, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth.

"Aye", answered Gibbs almost inaudibly.

"Get a captain at the helm."

Barbossa narrowed his eyes. Elizabeth looked up. Gibbs blinked, not getting Jack's meaning immediately, at least not until he shot him an impatient, piercing look. Gibbs' eyes widened at the sudden realization, and after a split second-long moment of astonishment, he muttered "aye", and rushed out of the cabin.

Barbossa snorted. "A risky idea."

"Which one?", asked Jack in a low voice, glanced at Elizabeth...

And fired.

* * *

Walking quickly up the stairs, Gibbs ran straight into Will, who was just going down, finally finding, despite the mist, the stairway leading below deck. 

"Will!", said Gibbs with a nervous half-smile, holding to the railing in order not to fall, as the ship jerked again.

"We'll capsize!", exclaimed Will, wrinkling his forehead. "Where is-"

"Come on, Will, let's go", cut in Gibbs, pulling Will by his sleeve up the stairs.

Will glanced down the stairs, hesitating, but deciding that perhaps it was not the time to argue or trying to settle other matters, while they were on the verge of losing their lives.

"What am I to do?", asked Will, when they were almost up on deck. "I think the sails-"

"Take the helm", Gibbs cut him off, muttering curses under his breath, as the torrents of rain washed over him, as soon as he emerged from below deck.

Will stopped in his tracks. "What?", he blinked, staring after Gibbs incredulously. He took one more step, getting into the rain and mist, which seemed not so thick anymore, but yet it was everywhere, significantly obscuring the vision. "What did you say?", he asked in a loud voice, muffled by the noise of the storm awakening around them.

"Take the helm!", shouted Gibbs., giving him a reassuring tap on the shoulder.

"What's going on?", asked Will suspiciously, knitting his eyebrows.

"Nothing. Just do what I say", said Gibbs urgently, turning his head, and shouting some orders to the crew members on deck.

"I don't think Jack would be very pleased with your orders", said Will with a trace of ironic smile flickering across his lips.

Gibbs darted his eyes to him, and sighed. "These _are _Jack's orders", he said in a serious tone of voice, and then rushed towards the starboard, shouting some commands.

Will narrowed his eyes in bewilderment. Jack wanted him to steer the _Black Pearl_...?!

Something was wrong.

But as the ship jerked with unusual force, and a large green wave washed over the deck, he decided that it was perhaps not the best time for trying to understand Jack and his ideas.

Which was a hopeless undertaking _at all times_, anyway.

* * *

Elizabeth gasped, when the knife fell to the floor. She threw herself forward immediately, and Jack met her half-way, pulling her towards him. 

Barbossa looked at the bullet hole in his arm, more irritated than angry. He should have guessed that.

Jack wrapped his arm around Elizabeth tightly, and she snuggled her head into his chest, while he cocked his pistol, and shot again, but this time the bullet went astray, due to a sudden jolt of the ship.

Barbossa pulled out his pistol, but did not manage to shoot, because another strong jolt sent them all to the floor. The screams of the crew above mixed with the sound of the rain falling from the dark sky in torrents, and tall murky waves crashing against the sides of the ship.

Barbossa grabbed the knife that he had dropped, and threw it across the cabin. Jack quickly pushed Elizabeth away from its way, the knife getting stuck in the wall, while he fired again hitting Barbossa's leg. Barbossa hissed angrily, and aimed at Elizabeth, while Jack cocked his pistol for the fourth time.

* * *

Gibbs ran below deck to check what was going on. Rushing across the corridor he heard the series of fire shots, so he quickened his steps, and stormed into the cabin. 

"Good Lord", he gasped. "I nearly died", he said with a sigh of relief.

"_You_ nearly died?", Jack glanced at him peevishly.

Gibbs smiled.

Jack pulled sobbing Elizabeth against his chest, and stroked her hair, while untying her hands. He grimaced angrily at the dark, bleeding marks left by the rope.

"What to do with... that?", asked Gibbs uncertainly, glancing at Barbossa's motionless, dead body lying on the floor. "Overboard?"

"No", Jack shook his head somewhat regretfully. "We can't. Not here. Not in these waters."

"Ah", Gibbs nodded knowingly. "I'll get somebody t'get that to the brig, then."

"An' the helm?", asked Jack, slowly cupping Elizabeth's face, and lifting it up, so she would look at him.

"It's alright, he's doin' alright", said Gibbs reassuringly. "I'll be right back", he added with a smile, quickly walking out of the cabin.

"Lizzie...", whispered Jack cautiously, looking at Elizabeth concernedly.

She tried to smile, but the smile came out broken, and she just burst into tears again throwing her arms around his neck.

"Shhh...", Jack kissed the side of her face, tightening his embrace around her, closing his eyes, but then suddenly opening them again. He propped her head with his hand, and looked at her searchingly. "He hasn't done anything to you, has he?", he asked anxiously, wrinkling his forehead.

Elizabeth winced, and this kind of response did not necessarily calm Jack down. She put her head on his shoulder, and sobbed. "He- he-"

Jack cupped her face, and stared at her wide-eyed. "He what?"

"He kissed me", said Elizabeth in a cracking voice, wincing, and began nervously wiping her mouth with her sleeve.

Jack sighed, and wiped the tears away from her face with his thumbs. "It's alright, Lizzie. It's over." He kissed her hand, and then took it away from her mouth, and kissed her softly on the lips. "Better?", he asked with a small smirk.

Elizabeth shook her head, a faint smile hovering over her lips. Jack widened his eyes at her. "No?", he asked incredulously.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, and shook her head again, suppressing a smile, the tears drying out in her eyes at the very sight of Jack's dark eyes fixed on her.

Jack tilted his head to the side, looking at her slyly for a moment, before entangling his hands in her hair, kissing her feverishly, and pressing her closely against him. "I'm sorry", he whispered, his lips touching hers as he spoke.

"For what?", Elizabeth placed her hand on his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes.

"For leaving ye alone. Be prepared that from this moment on I won't leave ye alone even for a blink of an eye", stated Jack decidedly, opening his eyes, and leaning into her to kiss her again. She deepened the kiss, and then broke it, smiling sweetly at him.

"Even for a blink of an eye?", she asked, resting her forehead against his.

"Even for a fraction of a blink of a fraction of a blink of an eye", whispered Jack, caressing the side of her face with the back of his hand.

"That'd be hard to do", said Elizabeth quietly, taking his hand in hers, and placing a warm kiss on his palm.

"Luv", started Jack with an impish smile, and Elizabeth laughed already knowing the rest of this sentence. "I'm-"

"Cap'n!" Gibbs came back to the cabin, followed by Pintel and Ragetti, who quickly proceeded to removing Barbossa's body from the cabin.

"Yes, Mr. Gibbs", answered Jack stiffly, rolling his eyes, which made Elizabeth smile again.

Jack staggered to his feet, pulling Elizabeth up with him.

"I was thinkin'", started Gibbs somewhat hesitantly. "As fortunate as the current turn of events most certainly seems t'be..."

"Yes, Mr. Gibbs", repeated Jack with slight impatience, standing with his back turned to Gibbs, facing Elizabeth, and brushing the locks of her hair behind her ears.

"There also seems t'be a certain aspect of our current situation that bothers me...", Gibbs paused, narrowing his eyes in a grimace.

Jack put his arm around Elizabeth, and turned to look at Gibbs. "Don't let us die in anticipation, Mr. Gibbs", Jack glanced at Pintel and Ragetti who swiftly exited the cabin, carrying Barbossa's body.

"It seems", started Gibbs with a hesitant smile, "that we are at the Ghost Sea... and we do not have the chart", he concluded with a sigh.

Elizabeth glanced at Jack, who looked at Gibbs grimly. "Correction", he said after a moment of consideration, pointing to Gibbs with his finger. "We do have the chart." Jack smiled self-assuredly.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, but then smiled, and nodded.

"We just don't know where it is", added Jack in a low tone of voice, wriggling his fingers in the air, and taking a look around the cabin.

Gibbs' smile slightly faltered, but he decided not to voice his doubts concerning the significance of the difference between not having something and not knowing where said something could be...


	59. Chapter 59

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

_**And special thanks goes to Terrie for making a lovely trailer to this story! **_(The link can be found on my profile page;)

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 59**

"How are ye doin', Will?", bellowed Gibbs, trying to make his voice audible in the noisy, heavy rain.

"It's calming down!", answered Will, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Is it", said Gibbs doubtfully, looking at the roaring, dark green waves washing over the deck. "What makes ye think so?", he asked, staring up at the dark, starless sky, barely visible through the veil of green mist.

"The fog is gathering around the sails", replied Will, squinting, and turning the wheel to the right. Gibbs looked at him dumbfounded. "At the sea _there_", continued Will without looking at Gibbs, as if sensing his questioning look, "when the mist thickens around the masts, the end of a storm usually comes soon."

"I see", nodded Gibbs without much conviction, and then glanced once again at the sky, and went back below deck to continue his search for the chart. The search that was temporarily left to him, as Jack had gone (shooting Gibbs a stern look, when he had chuckled at that prospect) to help Elizabeth get dressed.

* * *

"Jack, no!" Elizabeth tried to protest, but before she managed to construct a coherent argument against taking a bath and relaxing while there was a fairly frantic storm tossing the _Pearl _from one high, merciless wave to another, Jack picked her up, and unceremoniously, sat her, still dressed, down in the metal bathtub set up in Captain's Quarters by Ragetti and Pintel who had kept muttering under his breath unfavorable remarks about women on board. 

The tub was rather well secured, although the rocking of the ship made the tub also rock with it, so the water was inevitably spilling out of the bathtub from time to time.

"Firstly, ye will feel much better after that, luv, what with all those tears", Jack drew his hand across her face, "an' everything. Secondly, the ship's taken care of... in a way", he added with a grimace, and a wave of his hand. Elizabeth suppressed a smile."Thirdly, as long as a certain person is at the helm we know where said person is, which, knowing said person, is an undoubtedly a good thing to know. Fourthly, this storm is not all that severe. Fifthly, we haven't found the chart yet so it doesn't matter which way we sail... at the moment. Sixthly, the gashes on yer hands have to be cleaned anyway", he said somewhat grimly. "And seventhly-", Jack stopped in mid-sentence, staring at her as she took the silk blue robe, and the shirt off, and threw them on the floor.

"Seventhly?", asked Elizabeth with a hint of amusement in her voice, arching an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest, and sliding deeper into the tub. She actually welcomed the feeling of warm water washing over her. She had to admit that it was a good idea, after all. Even though she did not think it was very fair to all those who were now on deck, running around in pouring rain... _Oh, well_, thought Elizabeth, quickly shaking off the sense of guilt. _Pirate._

"Seventhly", Jack cleared his throat, and knelt beside her on the floor, "it's a captain's order, so all the other reasons are superfluous, really", concluded Jack with a roguish smile, glancing into the bathtub.

Elizabeth followed his gaze, and narrowing her eyes in indignation, splashed some water into his face.

'Oi", Jack wiped his eyes with his hand.

Elizabeth chuckled, and made sure to cover her body with her hands better than before.

"Alright", said Jack blinking the water out of his eyes. "Ye asked for it, luv", he said threateningly, staggering to his feet.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, smiling, but then her smile faded. "What are you doing?", she asked incredulously, watching him taking off his coat, and tossing it to the floor. "Jack!", she exclaimed warningly, but he only wiggled his eyebrows at her in response, hopping while taking one of his boots off. "Jack", Elizabeth tried to sound upset, but she suspected that her eyes, fixed on him, were rather betraying her. "Jack, don't...!"

Jack pulled his shirt over his head, and flashed Elizabeth an impish smile. "There's a striking discrepancy between yer words, and the look in yer eyes, luv", he said in an amused tone of voice, unbuckling his belt.

Elizabeth blinked, and then closed her eyes, quickly sliding herself deeper into the bathtub, holding her breath for several moments while staying under water, until she felt an unmistakable movement in dangerous proximity, informing her that somebody had stepped into the tub. She resurfaced with a gasp, coming face to face with Jack, who sat back with a contented sigh. "Ah. That's nice", he said interlacing his fingers behind his head, and closing his eyes.

Elizabeth stared at his face, transfixed by the feeling of his bare legs next to hers, his feet _in_voluntarily tickling the side of her body. She looked at him in silence, the only sound being heard coming form the outside, the rain streaming down against the windows, but not as strong as before. It seemed to be slowly, gradually subsiding. She blinked, feeling a foot sliding underneath her. "Jack!", she whispered angrily, pulling his foot away with her hands, which was a very unwise thing to do, since it caused her to uncover everything that she had tried to cover. She pushed his foot away, and glanced at him triumphantly, only to meet his no less triumphant gaze. She gasped upon sudden realization, but it was too late. Jack threw himself forward, pulling her into an embrace. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and wanted to scold him for..., but he cut her off with a soft, tender kiss, his hand gently cupping the side of her face. She closed her eyes, and returned the kiss, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. She broke the kiss, and rested her forehead against his.

"I was scared, Jack", she whispered almost inaudibly, looking down. "I shouldn't be. It was stupid of me. What kind of Pirate King-", she pouted.

"No, it wasn't stupid, 'Lizbeth", cut in Jack, brushing loose strands of her wet hair behind her ear. "Not at all."

Elizabeth looked up at him, and smiled faintly. "I knew you'll come, I just didn't know", she hesitated, absently caressing his shoulder, "when..."

"Lizzie", Jack pulled her closer, and she pressed her soppy cheek against his chest.

"I think I'd kill myself", she whispered in a hollow voice, trying to twirl one of Jack's dreadlocks around her finger.

Jack tilted his head backwards, and looked at her, furrowing his brows. "Don't even say that, 'Lizbeth", he said, frowning.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, and snuggled her face into Jack's neck, muttering something he could not understand.

"What was that, luv?", he asked in a low voice, leaning backwards, and pulling her with him. He rested his head on the back of the tub, and Elizabeth placed her head on Jack's chest, looking up at him intently.

"I said it doesn't matter now", she said quietly, putting her arm across his chest, smiling at the sensation of being so close to him, of feeling his skin under her fingertips, of feeling his fingertips on her skin...

"Yes, it does. I won't have ye have such thoughts", replied Jack decidedly, running his hand up and down her back, his mind subconsciously registering the delicate tremble of her body shivering under his touch.

"Oh", Elizabeth lifted her head slightly. You're going to control even my thoughts, then?", she asked with pretended annoyance.

"Even?", Jack arched an eyebrow, and gently propped her chin with his hand. "What else do I control?", he asked slowly, in a whisper, a ghost of a mischievous smile flitting across his lips.

Elizabeth took his hand from under her chin, and placed it on her chest. "Just my heart", she whispered with a sweet smile, trailing light kisses along his jawline. "And my soul, and-"

Jack tilted his head to the side, and captured her lips in between his, kissing her ardently, water splashing over the edges of the bathtub onto the floor as he rolled them over, trapping her underneath him.

"And?", he whispered huskily with a smile, moving his lips to her neck, nibbling and kissing it.

Elizabeth smiled. "You know what", she whispered, her eyes fluttering shut, her hands wrapping around his back, caressing it, and scratching it lightly with her fingernails.

He slid his hand to her thigh; she shivered; his name on her lips as he kissed her tenderly at first, and then more fiercely, hungrily, his other hand slipping under her head, entangling into her wet hair which looked darker than usual.

"I want you", he whispered between kisses, opening his eyes for a moment to look at her, and she opened her eyes as well, feeling his gaze, and smiling at him lovingly, her dark eyes staring into his with love and trust, the two feelings he had thought he would never be entitled to see.

"I suppose so", she answered quietly with a chuckle, gathering some water in her hand and pouring it over his back.

"No, Lizzie", he smirked, nuzzling her neck, and kissing his way to her lips again. "I mean... I want you... permanently. I want you forever, always. I...", he trailed off, breathing raggedly. Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, and looked at him intently. "I want to marry you", he said seriously, almost solemnly, with a hint of impatience (or was it... nervousness?) in his voice. Elizabeth stared at him wide-eyed, his words washing over her like burning hot water. "Would you... marry me, 'Lizbeth?", he asked in a whisper, looking at her searchingly, and it amused Elizabeth greatly that there was a very readable trace of genuine trepidation in his face.

She was tempted to use it to her advantage, and tease him, but something in his eyes stopped her. "How?", she asked simply in a hardly audible whisper, catching her lower lip between her teeth, and tracing the outline of his lips with her fingertips.

He gave her an impish grin. "First yer answer, then me solution, luv."

Elizabeth blinked, an unmistakable glimpse of curiosity flashing in her eyes. She cupped his face in her hands, and pulled him into a kiss. "Why would I... want to marry you?", she asked breathlessly, with certain nonchalance in her voice, breaking the kiss, and wrapping her hands around his neck.

Jack blinked, putting on a hurt look. Elizabeth opened her eyes, and held back a smile, looking at him expectantly.

"And these are the very circumstances that make you ask such a question, luv, aye?", asked Jack incredulously, his mouth hovering over hers.

Elizabeth swallowed, not really feeling like joking anymore, when he slowly pressed his chest to hers, and brushed his lips against the small cut on her throat, left by Barbossa's knife.

"Jack...", she gasped, clinging to him, and tilting her head backwards, as he continued planting feathery light kisses all over her neck, her chin... She subconsciously parted her lips feeling his breath on her face... She waited for his lips to descend upon hers, but for some reason the kiss was not happening. She opened her eyes, and looked at him in a way that must have been very amusing, because he grinned at her, stroking the side of her face with the back of his hand. "Jack", she whispered with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

He looked at her for a moment yet, and then leaned down, and with his lips lightly touching hers, whispered feverishly, the sound of his voice sending shivers up her spine, his eyes never leaving hers as he spoke:

"Marry me, 'Lizbeth, luv, darling. Marry me. Marry me, and I will give you heaven. I will give you hell probably too, but... I love you, I want to marry you, marry me, Lizzie. Marry me", the last two words he mouthed rather than whispered, looking at her with dark, glimmering eyes.

Elizabeth blinked, stunned into silence. She stared at him, transfixed, hypnotized, his words echoing in her mind, igniting flashing images in her imagination, coursing through her, reaching every part of her body, and every part of her soul. _Did he... Did he just said what he said...?..._

"Could you...", she trailed off, looking at him with amazement. "Could you..." He looked at her intensely. "Could you repeat", she whispered at last.

Jack blinked, slightly baffled. "Marry me", he started once again. "'Liz-"

She pulled his head down, crashing his lips against hers, kissing him passionately. He deepened the kiss, his hands wandering over her body with impatient feverishness, the water splashing all over the floor, the bathtub rocking threateningly, about to fall over, but they could not be further away from the possibility to notice it.

"I do", whispered Elizabeth ardently, catching her breath. "I would, I will, I want, I do, I do. I do."

Jack grinned at her, pressing his lips to hers, sealing to her lips the words she kept repeating.

"Say it again", she gasped, smiling. He looked at her with a glimpse of amusement flashing in his now almost perfectly black eyes. "I want to learn it by heart", she added quietly, looking serious.

The amusement in Jack's eyes turning into the look of thoughtfulness, as he brushed his lips against hers, whispering: "I'll write it down for ye if ye want, luv." A trace of a mischievous smile flickering across his face. "But not now", he added in a low voice, pressing his lips to hers.

"I love you", she whispered into strangely bright darkness, and smiled hearing the words repeated in that beautiful, bewitching, beloved voice, that sounded like freedom itself.

* * *

Gibbs perused through all the books and papers on the table in Barbossa's cabin. He found the book that had been brought aboard the _Black Pearl_ by Will so long ago, but had never got to be read by any of them yet (except for Bill Turner, and Will, perhaps), since Barbossa had taken it. 

Gibbs checked the drawers, checked the floor (finding a small cache in it, but the cache turned out to be empty). He sighed, and went to the wardrobe, when the cabin's door that was already ajar, opened wider, and Bill Turner peered inside.

"Good timin'", said Gibbs with a chuckle. "Ye missed a tad bit of a storm we were just havin'."

"Wasn't intended", answered "Bootstrap" with a smile, walking in. "We surfaced as soon as we could."

"Aye", Gibbs nodded. "And Will is-"

"I saw 'im", cut in Bill Turner with a small, amused smile. "An' I wish I knew what's goin' on?"

Gibbs sighed, and smiled, scratching his forehead, and thinking where should he begin with his explanation.

* * *

"There." Jack put Elizabeth down on the bed, and draped a cover over her with a smile. "Get some sleep, luv. It's almost dawn." He kissed her on the lips, and she smiled, keeping her hands wrapped around his neck tightly. 

"And what if I won't let you go?", she asked, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

"Ah", he leaned down, and kissed her again, sliding his hands underneath her, and pulling her gently towards him. "Then we'll have Gibbs breaking through the door to check whether we haven't drown."

Elizabeth unwrapped her hands, giggling. "Then I think I should better let you go", she said quietly, pursing her lips, and brushing a soaking wet dreadlock away from his face, the drops of water falling on her collarbones. "Even though you said you won't leave me even for a blink of an eye of-", she began teasingly, but he cut her off with another kiss.

"And I won't. I will send Gibbs to stay in the cabin. He can fix the desk in the meantime, and ye luv, will just keep sleeping here-"

"Jack, I wasn't serious", cut in Elizabeth with a chuckle.

"But I was", replied Jack, pulling the cover under her chin.

Elizabeth wanted to retort, but something else crossed her mind. "About _that_ too?", she asked hesitantly, shifting her head on the pillow.

Jack narrowed his eyes, and sat on the edge of the bed, giving her a long, considerate look. "How can ye ask such a question, Lizzie", he said sounding sincerely offended. "Have I ever...", he paused, leaning down toward her, wrinkling his forehead, and looking very serious, "lied to you?"

Elizabeth blinked, and looked at him for a moment in silence, his words slowly sinking in. He was returning her gaze so steadily that for a moment there she thought-

She snorted, and tore the pillow from under her head, hitting Jack with it as hard as possible. "Very funny!", she exclaimed, laughing.

He caught the pillow, and threw it on the other side of the bed, gathering Elizabeth into his arms. She stopped laughing, and slowly leaning into him, kissed him softly on the lips.

"Have you been ever thinking about it, Jack?", she asked thoughtfully, opening her eyes.

"'Bout what, luv?", he asked, wrapping the cover around her to keep her warm, and to make up for the lack of clothes.

"About...", she took his hands in hers. "What would have happened if that carriage hadn't run over me", she said looking at their hands entwined together.

"Not too often", answered Jack with a cautious smirk, taking her hand in his, and lifting it to his lips.

Elizabeth smiled. "Yes, but... I just thought... that I might have... run away-" She watched him intently as he slowly pulled the wedding ring off her finger, and put it into the pocket in his breeches, as it was the only piece of clothing that he had on at the moment.

"There will be no running away anymore, luv." He looked up at her, not in search of a permission, but merely to check her reaction. Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "It's yours", she smiled. "We've traded, remember?", she lifted her hand and showed him the green ring that he had given her.

"Aye", Jack smiled, and kissed her hand, when she cupped the side of his face with it. "I remember."

"Speaking of that", Elizabeth withdrew her hand, and straightened up, putting on a serious look.

Jack widened his eyes in expectant amusement. "One moment, luv", he said suddenly, and walked off to the other cabin.

Elizabeth followed him with a puzzled gaze, but then smiled, when he came back, sat on the bed again, and took both of her hands in his, and having them placed on his thigh, began putting soft dressings over her injured wrists.

* * *

"I don't know exactly what had happened", Gibbs shot Bill Turner hesitant look. Bill nodded, listening intently. "But when I walked in he was holdin' a knife at her throat an'-" 

"What?!", Will stormed into the cabin, looking at Gibbs questioningly. The storm had calmed down, so he had let Cotton to take over the helm, because he was not only tired, but above all he wanted to at last find out what was going on.

Gibbs grimaced, and with a sigh began recounting the unfortunate event once again.

* * *

"So", started Elizabeth after a pause. "I gave you the answer, and you never gave me the solution", she pouted, looking at Jack's hands taking care of the gashes. After applying the dressings, he took a ball of white lace (and she tried to guess where that come from?), and cutting two pieces of lace with small scissors, wrapped a piece of lace over the dressing around each of her wrists. Elizabeth smiled slightly, and looked up at Jack with curiosity, wondering whether the laces were necessary to hold the dressings in place, or rather that he did that merely for the sake of decoration. 

"Aye", he nodded, putting the scissors, and the rest of the lace away, and looking up at her. "True enough."

Elizabeth looked at him expectantly. He pushed himself fully on the bed, and lay on his back, pulling Elizabeth down with him, wrapping his arm around her. She put her head on his chest, closing her eyes, and snuggling into him. He looked at her, and smiled to himself, protectively tightening his embrace. Nothing could happen to her. He will not let anything bad happen to her. He wanted her to feel safe, to feel protected. He wanted her to feel that she had nothing to worry about, nothing to be afraid of; that she will never have anything to be afraid of. Never.

Jack cleared his throat, and very calmly began delivering his explanation accompanied by vivid gesticulation of his hand. "Only the captain of a ship can perform _marriages_, luv. And this ship has only one captain and said captain wasn't the one performing _that_... _event_", he waved his hand dismissively. "Therefore-"

Elizabeth shifted abruptly, and looked up at Jack with her eyes wide-open. "You mean it's invalid?", she asked, astonished, but the look in her eyes closer to joy rather than to actual astonishment.

Jack brushed his thumb across the smile that tugged on her lips. "Not only invalid, luv. Inescapably _illegal_", he said in a distinct whisper, smiling, and turning towards her, so they both lay on their sides, facing each other.

She looked at him wordlessly, smiling pensively, and he was not sure whether it was good, or-

_Aye. Good. Undoubtedly_, he thought smirking inwardly, when Elizabeth pressed her lips to his, and kissed him ardently.

"So", she started, breaking the kiss, and taking a deep breath, "could you do it now?", she asked hesitantly, her eyes glimmering, as she stared at him with a glimpse of excitement in her eyes. Jack's narrowed his eyes, looking at her interestedly. "Right here... Right...", she smirked, "on this bed... Right-"

"Now", finished Jack, twirling a lock of her still wet hair around his finger.

Elizabeth smiled, and brushed her lips against his. "Now."

"Do ye think that we're dressed with sufficient decency for such an occasion, luv? Seeing that _some_ of us are not dressed at all", he said amusedly, sliding his hand under the cover, and pulling Elizabeth closer.

She smiled, placing her hand on his cheek. "Seeing that the proposal took place when _none_ of us was dressed, I think we made a significant progress towards decency anyway", whispered Elizabeth, smirking.

"Aye. That we did", muttered Jack smilingly, snuggling his face into her neck.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, falling into the oblivion of his touch, when he unexpectedly pulled away propped his head on an elbow, and looked at her intensely. She opened her eyes, and met his gaze, and they stared at each other in silence for a moment, and she pondered how peaceful it felt to just lie beside him, wrapped in his arms. She began to feel drowsy, overwhelmed by that strange kind of sleepiness which came only with the sense of safety, and was about to close her eyes again, when he suddenly took her hand in his, and whispered: "I..." And her eyes snapped wide-open. "Captain Jack Sparrow", he continued cautiously, a small smile tugging on his lips. Elizabeth bit her lip, and smiled hesitantly, not quite believing that he was really... But he continued. And she continued to smile as he spoke. "Take you, Elizabeth Swann, to be me beloved wife", he drew his hand across her face, and she leaned into his touch with a smile, "to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to love-"

Elizabeth cringed at the sound of loud knocking on the door. Jack rolled his eyes, and rested his forehead against her shoulder with a sigh. "Just shoot whoever it is, an' be right back", he muttered, kissing her briefly on the lips, and slipping out of the bed.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, put the pillow over her face, and laughed.

Jack went to the door, and opened them hastily, ready to shoot the person who had knocked a particularly cold look, which task turned out to be impossible since it was difficult to determine who, out of the three people standing at the door, had knocked.

"Where is she? How is she?", Will stormed into the cabin, walking past his father and Gibbs, and almost knocking Jack over. Jack shot Gibbs a meaningful look, but Gibbs only shook his head in mute indication that he was not to be blamed.

"Ah. The _Flying Dutchman_ is back, I see", said Jack with a slight smile, letting the rest of the unannounced guests in.

"Aye", answered Bill Turner. "It seems-", he started, but Will cut in, interrupting him.

"Where is Elizabeth?", he almost shouted, making a gesture as if he wanted to shake Jack by the collars of his shirt, but seeing that he had no shirt on, he must have given up the idea.

"Ye don't look good, mate. What's happened to ye?", asked Jack with a grimace, looking Will's dishevelled, and soaking wet appearance up and down.

Gibbs suppressed a chuckle.

"I happened to be steering a ship through a storm", answered Will stiffly through his gritted teeth. "I asked where-", he started again in a very angry tone of voice.

"Ye ought to wear a hat next time, ye know", broke in Jack matter-of-factly, in an advisory tone of voice, going to the wardrobe, and for a moment Will thought that he was going to give him a hat, but then Jack just pulled out a shirt for himself.

"Where is Elizabeth?", asked Will darkly, on the verge of losing his patience, his hands rolling into fists.

Jack eyed the shirt suspiciously before putting it on, and then turned to Will, and looked at him intently. "And where do ye think she is?", he asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice, averting his eyes from him, and walking toward Gibbs and Bill Turner. "Have ye found the chart?", he asked, but Gibbs' answer was cut off by Will.

"I want to talk to her", said Will sharply, irritated by the fact that it sounded almost as if he was asking for permission; the permission to talk with his own wife.

"She is asleep", answered Jack, looking at Gibbs, and waving his hand at him to indicate that he was still waiting for Gibbs' reply, regardless the interruptions.

Gibbs opened his mouth, but the words he was about to say, once again remained unpronounced.

"I don't believe you", stated Will, wrinkling his forehead.

"Perhaps ye're right. Dead people would be bound to wake up 'cause of yer shouting, not to mention people who are merely asleep", snapped Jack irritatedly.

"Do you have any idea what could have happened?", shouted Will obviously ignoring Jack's latest comment.

Jack narrowed his eyes in annoyance, and turned around, looking at Will sternly. "By all means do enlighten me, please. I'm sure yer knowledge in the matter is infinitely richer since ye were the one havin' some mysterious dealings, or rather makin' some mysterious deals with a certain twice dead person."

Gibbs' eyes widened. Bill Turner darted his eyes to Will, giving him a slightly baffled look. Will anxiously glanced at his father, but then shifted his eyes back to Jack.

And then suddenly a thought crossed his mind. "I want to talk to you", he said stiffly, giving Jack a cold look. Jack raised his eyebrows. "In private."

"If I remember correctly", replied Jack with a sour smirk. "Ye said quite recently that ye _won't_ be talk-"

"I changed my mind...", cut in Will sharply, and looked away.

Jack looked at him intently for a moment, before consenting. Gibbs (not sure whether it was a good idea) and Bill Turner (still puzzled by what he had heard) both reluctantly left the Captain's Quarters.

Will stared pensively into the distance, gathering his thoughts.

_...and my strategy._


	60. Chapter 60

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Dear CJS & everybody else who asked a similar question;) : as you see, I am continuing _HWMB? _:) You didn't seriously suspect me of abandoning this story, did you???

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 60**

"_Will you marry me?"_

She looked so beautiful... In that rain... On that day... In those terrible circumstances... She still looked stunning, and beautiful, and for a moment he had thought that it would have not been so bad to die, if he could only die looking at her... And then... he had died.

Almost. He had died for ten years. But even before those ten years were over, now, he was dying again.

Why did she stop loving him? Did she stop?... And yet, strangely enough, suspecting (and maybe even knowing...? yes... knowing...) that she did, he found himself unable to just walk away... The more he wanted to forget, and leave, the more he felt that he could not do that, even though he thought he should... sometimes... and sometimes he thought he shouldn't.

But it was ridiculous, wasn't it? To think that there was still a chance... Why would he even want to give her a chance?... _Not that she seemed to want to be given a chance in the first place_, thought Will bitterly, staring at the floor.

"Is anything particularly wrong with me floor?", asked Jack, glancing at Will, and walking to the other side of the room, where he stopped, and looked at his mistreated desk sternly.

Will cringed, and looked up, trying to shake off his grim thoughts. "No", he answered mechanically, and trailed off, his eyes stopping at the small pile of clothes on the floor. White and blue... White... He recognized the shirt... It was soaking wet, and he looked around only then spotting the bathtub and water splashed all over it on the floor.

"Good", replied Jack disinterestedly, gripping the side of the table, and pulling it back up to the standing position. He blew the dust off the surface, wiped his hands on his breeches, and moved the table to where it used to stand.

Will slowly tore his gaze away from the tub, and looked toward Jack, who glanced at him briefly, preoccupied with picking up his maps, charts, and other items from the floor, and grimacing from time to time, as he was wiping them with some cloth, before placing them back on the table.

"How is she?", asked Will in a low voice, trying to remain calm, telling himself that self-control could get him definitely further than rush actions. At least at the moment.

"She's with me", answered Jack picking up a book from the floor, and looking at it curiously. Will took a sharp intake of breath, glaring at him, and hardly keeping himself from running him through with his sword right away. "Meaning...", added Jack in a firm and low tone of voice, putting the book away with a shrug. "She's fine."

"Oh really", Will managed to speak in a cold, steady tone of voice, although inside he was shaking. "Being threatened with a knife by an unscrupulous bastard sounds _fine_, indeed."

Jack looked at him intently. "No doubt scheming with one sounds much finer", he said narrowing his eyes, and putting a pile of charts that he had collected from the floor, back on the table.

"You're changing the subject", hissed Will, squinting.

"Do I?" inquired Jack, looking astounded. "Well", he bent down, and picked up a chair. "Perhaps these two subjects are somehow intertwined, as it were." He placed the chair at the desk, and took a few steps backwards, tilting his head to the side.

"What are you trying to imply?", asked Will sharply, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.

"Nothing", replied Jack indifferently, adjusting the chair, and nodding at the correction contentedly.

Will snorted. "I don't think you are the right person to judge other people's loyalty. But yes, I did speak with him, and perhaps the idea of killing you did not seem particularly repulsive to me either." Jack shot him a mildly amused look. "Although it doesn't mean that I actually did anything that could be considered dishonest", he finished, straightened up, and turned around, taking a few steps away from the bathtub.

"Ah", Jack smirked cautiously. "That's very impressive. But ye must not take everything so seriously." Will turned around, and looked at him coolly."I wasn't suggesting anything more than what ye actually just said ye had done." Jack walked toward the tub, picked up the clothes, and wrung them over the bathtub.

Will stood watching him silently, trying to block the thoughts and images that kept invading his mind. Yet, they could be stopped. Yet, there was a way to stop it all. He hoped there was. He loved her. Still... And even though he wished sometimes he had never met her, he could not stop thinking about her, about their life together, how wonderful, quiet and peaceful it might be... They would settle down near Port Royal, but not in Port Royal. In a smaller town, rather. With not too many houses, one church... A quiet neighbourhood. They would have a large garden... And a veranda... He had planned to build the veranda by himself... He had even made a drawing... one night, on the _Flying Dutchman_...

"Has it ever crossed your mind what would happen if you engaged in a battle, lost it, and have everybody on board taken hostage?", asked Will all of a sudden, breaking a fairly long moment of silence. His voice on the verge of contempt, as if he had those words prepared beforehand.

...which he had. A few minutes ago he had come up with several sentences... And he hoped that the rest will just flow, when he starts talking.

Jack threw the clothes over the side of the bathtub, and looked at Will intensely, trying to figure out what he was getting at.

"What would happen to Elizabeth?", asked Will in a quieter tone of voice. Jack narrowed his eyes, and Will swallowed. _Will it work...?_ "How would you rescue her then?", he slowly walked towards Jack. "Thrown into a brig on some filthy ship." Will paused, as a small, bitter sneer flitted across his lips. "Would you think of the way to escape? Or would you rather listen to her screaming?"

"I'm afraid I'm failing to see yer point", cut in Jack impatiently, clenching one of his fists so hard that the knuckles turned white on an instant, which did not escape Will's notice; as well as the glimpse of fury flashing in Jack's eyes as he stared at him with annoyance.

_And what if he really cares for her?..._ A quiet voice inside Will's head asked. Will snorted inwardly. That entire idea was going to work _only_ if he really cared for her, so there was really no point in feeling guilty now... But then... If he did... And if she... Maybe he should not... He had no right... maybe. But maybe he had a right... After all he did believe in every word he was saying. Every word was true. _True_. He could wholeheartedly agree with his every sentence. Yet...

"Or simply if you'd be caught...", Will continued as if Jack had never interrupted his train of thought. "Would you see her hanged?" Jack's mouth twitched, and he narrowed his eyes looking at Will with growing impatience. "Is that what you want? Because I can't see what else could possibly happen to her sooner or later, should she stay with you." He looked at Jack unblinkingly, watching him closely, and with numb satisfaction noticing the anger flashing in his eyes. But not only anger... Maybe even not at all anger... But rather... anxiety; intolerably sincere anxiety.

_Does he really... love her, then? Could he really-_

"Yer concern is very touching", replied Jack stiffly, forcing a faint sneer, and walking towards his desk. "But I'm afraid I am in no need to seek yer advise on any subject matter, this accidentally being also one of those which I do not need hearing even yer opinion on", said Jack shooting him a stern look. He sat down in the chair, and began perusing through the papers on his desk.

"You called me selfish once", went on Will, ignoring Jack's pretended disinterest. He could see in the way his eyebrows furrowed, that he was listening; he was listening very intently. "For expecting her to wait for me for ten years in Port Royal." Will paused, and slowly walked towards the desk. "And you were right", he said unsmilingly, looking at Jack across the table. Jack looked up at him with a glimpse of grim irritation in his eyes. "But how would you call yourself for expecting her to be risking her life and honour every day for the rest of her life? I know what you're going to say", said Will after a pause, looking away. "We're about to reach the Fountain of Youth", he said almost mockingly, and shifted his eyes back to Jack. "I will give the drink to Elizabeth and then she will give the drink to you, and then you to me-"

"This is all very interesting", cut in Jack, sitting back in his chair. "But I wish ye could express yer meaning in fewer words. We don't have all day for this conversation. And in case ye don't know. That storm ye had a pleasure to sail through hasn't ended yet."

"Still there are horrible things that may happen, even if they don't cause death", said Will in a low, thoughtful voice, as if Jack had not said anything at all. "And yet, what if we won't find the Fountain?" Jack crossed his arms over his chest, annoyance gradually becoming replaced by something Will could not quite define yet. Curiosity? Anxiety? Trepidation? Fear... "What then?", Will rested his hands on the desk, and looked at Jack steadily. "Don't you think she went through enough? Don't you think she suffered enough? You want her, but you don't care what she wants", Will paused, stopped by a trace of a smirk that flickered across Jack's lips sending cold shivers down his spine. "Maybe she", he started again, trying to calm down, and continue as before in an almost monotone, but resolute and reasonable tone of voice. "Maybe she does want you right now", he said, blinking, the words escaping his mouth almost involuntarily. Jack tilted his head to the side, beginning to wonder where that conversation was _really_ going, or rather... what Will was trying to achieve with that artificial sincerity. "Being a twenty-two-year-old girl with her head full of stories, little broken by the reality", he closed his eyes for a moment, "but still there", he looked at Jack intently, trying to decipher his facial expression. "The stories, and her unusual courage. But even with that courage she is only a young girl who doesn't, who cannot possibly know what she wants, because she cannot judge the world properly."

"Ye mean she can't judge _me_ properly", retorted Jack with a half-sneer, half-smile which did not reach his eyes at all.

"You stalked her", replied Will sharply. "You weaved a web around her. At first with your legend, coming to Port Royal as if out of nowhere, a childhood hero, a pirate, a-"

"I'm having a thought here", Jack interrupted him with a wave of his hand. Will squinted. "Could ye perhaps deliver me the written version of yer speech. I promise to read it as soon as I can." Jack staggered to his feet. "But now, if ye please-"

"You've been amusing yourself with seducing her", cut in Will, his voice becoming louder, and more agitated, and for the first time it crossed Jack's mind that Elizabeth might be actually listening at the door, and hearing the entire conversation. "Maybe you did not think it would work, maybe you did. But then something happened, and whatever your plans were, or weren't, they went awry." Jack collected his coat from the floor, and shake the dust off it. "But she got you back, and you forgave her because..." Will swallowed, having an impression that he was losing control over his own words. He felt as if they were just uttering themselves without his will. "Because perhaps sitting in that Locker you had understand that you felt something for her. And when she came back, you thought that she might have fallen in love with you-"

"Might have?" Jack spun around, and looked at Will curiously with a glint of amusement in his eyes. Will's mouth twitched, but he did not move. "Ye know...", Jack put on his coat, and straightened the sleeves. "I think that ye _might_ want to revise yer grammar, 'cause it seems to me that ye _might _have some problems with ascribing a right meaning to certain forms. Or rather", Jack looked around the room as if in search of something, "ascribing certain forms to their meanings, respectively."

"But things didn't work out once again, did they, Jack?", continued Will with stubbornness that was beginning to irritate Jack greatly. He sighed, and looked at Will sternly. "She married me", stated Will decidedly, unexpectedly receiving only a strange smile from Jack in response to his statement; but he carried on, nonetheless. "And... you knew you lost her, yet, you had your dream of immortality to hold on to, but then you lost that too, saving my life so she won't lose me, because perhaps right then you thought... I thought... she thought... that she loved me."

"As much as I am impressed by yer uncalled for, but still talkativeness, I have to ask ye to leave my cabin", said Jack staring at Will meaningfully.

Will turned around, and for a brief moment Jack thought that he would leave after all, but... he didn't. "And then one day she came to Tortuga", said Will in a hollow tone of voice. Jack sighed, looking up at the ceiling. He had trouble with understanding why Will was recounting the entire history of their lives, as if. Was he giving up? Unlikely. "She came to you", said Will, almost choking on the words. Jack wrinkled his forehead, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know what she wanted from you then." Will turned around, land looked at Jack blankly. "I'm sure you don't know that as well, and I'd be surprised if she knew. But she did come, and... everything went awry again", he trailed off, and looked away. "Or did it go awry after all?", he asked, darting his eyes to Jack again, a faint sneer tugging on his lips. "No. Just on the contrary. It went very well, didn't it, Jack? You added lies to your web, and wrapped them around her tightly. Not a thought could escape. You took her at sea, let her steer, gave her a ring, said you loved her?", the words sounded almost like a question, but not quite. "Of course", he snorted, as if he had been given the expected answer. Jack narrowed his eyes, deciding at last to let him speak, and hear what was the point of that odd quasi-monologue. "And then you left her no way out, you made her cross all the borders, break all the promises that she did not even remember she had to keep. But you did remember, and you did not care."

"Actually-"

"You should've killed me", Will cut him off, his voice suddenly losing its monotonous quality. "You should've let me die. But no", he smiled sourly. "Being a good man that you are... Because you are a good man, aren't you, Jack?", Will wrinkled his forehead, the tone of his voice very cold and slightly ironic. "She thinks that you are. She loves you for that. So you couldn't lose it." Jack looked at him with intensity, but the anger was temporarily gone from his eyes. He was just listening. Listening, and maybe even really pondering what he was hearing... "You knew that letting me die would only be half as advantageous as saving me. But you didn't do this for me, of course. You didn't do this for her either. You did it for yourself knowing that it will win you her eventually. And you had ten years at your disposal."

"Are ye sayin' that she's with me 'cause she's grateful that I'd saved ye?", asked Jack with pretended amusement, knowing very well that it was not his intended meaning, but implying that meaning nonetheless. Will opened his mouth to continue, but this time it was Jack who cut him off. "I admit I'm at loss for ideas", Jack shrugged his shoulders with mock helplessness. "I don't know what else do ye need to hear or see to understand", he looked at Will with unusual seriousness. "Ye saw her kissing me", he said, causing Will to blink, taken aback by actually _hearing_ his most despised memory. "Ye talked to her", Jack paused, not sure whether he should really say what he was about to say, but then again he was fairly annoyed, so... "Ye saw her walking around me cabin in my shirt after making love to me. What else do ye want to see?", he asked with artificially genuine interest, thinking that if Elizabeth was eavesdropping she surely would not like to hear him talk like that, and she would certainly storm into the cabin... But she did not, so perhaps she had fallen asleep, after all.

Will's face turned pale, even though he knew all of that already. But he had never put it into words, never phrased it. It was just some vague, amorphous set of facts stored away, hidden somewhere deep in his mind, so that even knowing about it, he was never actually thinking of or pondering it.

_And this is when ye get shot, mate_, thought Jack not unreasonably, returning steadily Will's furious gaze.

But Will did not shoot. He did not even pull out his sword. He just stood there, glaring at Jack.

_Now, that's unusual. _Jack narrowed his eyes. _Very unusual._

* * *

"What is that?!", Pintel squinted, wrinkling his forehead. 

"It's the _Flying Dutchman_", replied Ragetti with a chuckle, looking in the wrong direction.

Pintel hit him on the head irritatedly. "That!", he shouted, pointing to something that was definitely not the _Flying Dutchman_.

Ragetti turned around, and blinked. "Oh. Tha- That", he gasped, and swallowed.

* * *

"You haven't answered my question", said Will after a pause, as if nothing else had been said. Jack knitted his eyebrows, and tilted his head to the side. _What does he bloody want? _Will looked around the room, and then shifted his eyes back to Jack. "Has it ever crossed your mind what would happen to Elizabeth if you engaged in a battle, lost it, and have everybody on board taken hostage?" 

Jack rolled his eyes, but then...

"_I think I'd kill myself." _He blinked at the sound of Elizabeth's recent words reverberating in his head.

"Or perhaps you just don't care", Will looked at him searchingly, beginning to feel exhausted. It was just too much for him. For a moment he did not care whether it would work or not... He just wanted to get out... out of here... out of this cabin... out of this situation...

...out of this situation... but _with_ Elizabeth...

"She was always saying that you are a good man", said Will in a strangely distant tone of voice. "So I'm addressing you right now as such. Let her go. Make her go. For her. For her safety, for her happiness. She doesn't belong here. She doesn't deserve to live a life of a wanted fugitive, she doesn't deserve to be hanged, or shot, or humiliated. Let her go. Let her", he paused, and then finished, pronouncing the last words very distinctly, "be free."

Jack did not say anything. But in his eyes, there was a hurricane of thoughts rushing through.

And Will did not need anything more. He stood motionlessly for a moment yet, and then turned around, and left the cabin, quietly closing the door behind him.

He leaned against the wall in the corridor, closed his eyes, and sighed. The notions of right and wrong blended in his mind, and he did not know which of them would be better to describe what he had done...

He had said the truth. He had not said anything but the truth, yet... he was not sure whether he had done the right thing. Because even if his words were clear and transparent, his intentions weren't. At least not entirely... But it did not matter. He had a right to fight for her. He loved her. He was her husband. He wanted her to be happy. And how could she be truly happy living a life on the verge of danger, on the verge of death, and insecurity? He could give her security, safety, certainty. He could give her predictably constant happiness and stability. And love. Love...

"_I just... don't remember that feeling... anymore. I'm sorry, but... I don't remember loving you... I mean I do remember that I loved you, but I don't remember how did it feel like, I don't... feel it. I'm sorry, but I love you... only as a friend. A very dear friend."_

He felt a twinge of pain at the memory of her words. Still, she had not said that she did not love him... She loved him... Maybe... She could love him again... not only as a friend... A friend. Will snorted bitterly, covering his face with hands. How could she do that to him? He knew it was not her fault, but... He loved her, and he believed that they still had a chance.

If only _he_... loved her too...

The irony of it was almost too abstract to be considered cruel.

"_Life is cruel"_, he thought warily, walking away, and trying to remember where he had heard that phrase before...

* * *

Jack cautiously opened the door to his bedroom, and looked inside. Elizabeth was laying on the bed, with her cheek pressed against the pillow. She was asleep, and she looked beautiful. _As always._ Jack smiled to himself faintly, walked inside, and closed the door behind him. 

He slowly sat down on the bed beside her, and resting his hands on either side of her, leaned down, and kissed her softly on the cheek. She shifted slightly, and Jack brought his hand to her face, and very gently stroked her hair.

_Pirate King_, he thought, and smirked, but his smirk quickly faded.

_A fragile girl. _He drew his hand across her face, and looked at her thoughtfully. Did she know what she was doing? Did she _really_ know what she was doing? _Of course she did!... _

_Did she?..._

He sifted her hair through his fingers, thinking back to everything that had happened since that day in Port Royal... And then in Tortuga... How easily had he got over that sense of guilt that had used to haunt him for lying to her... Well, it had not haunted him all that much... Yet-

"_I think I'd kill myself."_ He shut his eyes with a grimace. Somehow that sentence kept coming back to him.

But she wanted to be here. She loved the sea, she loved... _"a pirate's life for me..." _Yet-

Jack smiled pensively, leaned down, and buried his face in Elizabeth's hair, for the first time feeling so literally the hurtful difference between what he wanted, and what he thought he _should_ want...

"I can't believe I fell asleep." Elizabeth's quiet voice shook Jack out of his reverie. He lifted his head, and brushed her hair away from her face. Elizabeth half-opened her eyes, and smiled. "I wanted to listen by the door", she whispered drowsily with an impish smile, closing her eyes. "But..."

"Sleep on, Lizzie. Ye're tired", said Jack in a strangely distant tone of voice, stroking her hair gently.

"Am not", she pouted quietly with a giggle, and then opened her eyes, and looked at him smilingly.

"Ye should get some sleep", he said almost inaudibly.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and pushed herself up to the sitting position. "I will", she said, wrapping the cover around her. "But I think we have been interrupted..." She wrapped her hands around Jack's neck, and rested her forehead against his. "And I refuse to go back to sleep as Elizabeth _Swann_", she whispered with a sweet smile. He smiled back, but his smile was rather faint. If it was a smile at all. "Jack?", asked Elizabeth with a chuckle. "Do you hear me?", she whispered amusedly, brushing her lips against his.

He looked at her intently, and cupped her face in his hands. "Lizzie..." She tilted her head to the side, and smiled. "Are you..."

"Am I what?", she asked with playful impatience, slightly turning her head, and kissing the palm of his hand.

"Are you...", Jack sighed. "Did you... Do you..."

Elizabeth laughed, and pressed a warm, brief kiss against his lips. "You forgot 'will you'", she said, running her hand across his face, and he felt an urge to just pull her toward him, embrace her, kiss her, but-

"Lizzie, do you know that there will be no calm days once you decide to be a part of this ship, and this life?", he asked in a low tone of voice, looking at her concernedly, with strange solemnity.

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose, and blinked. "Do I-", she trailed off, a glimpse of amusement in her eyes gradually fading, until it disappeared completely.

They looked at each other in silence for a longer while. Jack searched her face, looking at her with intensely, not knowing whether she was pondering his question, or-

"Oh", she said at last shakily, slowly pulling away. "I see", she said with a faint smile, and with a hardly noticeable hint of irony in her voice. Jack knitted his eyebrows, and opened his mouth to add something, but she stopped him with her hand. "No, don't. I understand. You didn't have to think of such a sophisticated excuse", she said quietly, and his eyes widened at the sight of tears welling up in her eyes. "I wasn't treating that proposal seriously anyway", she said almost choking on the words, and in one quick movement jumped out of the bed, and rushed into the other cabin, holding the bed cover wrapped around her.

"'Lizbeth", Jack blinked, astonished, and quickly followed her to the other cabin.

She was kneeling by the trunks, searching for some clothes.

"Lizzie, it's not what I-"

The Captain's Quarters' door burst open, revealing a very distressed-looking Mr. Gibbs.

"Jack, come quick, there's... something before us..."

Jack shot him an impatient look, glancing at Elizabeth, who seemed to ignore whatever was happening, concentrating instead, with exaggerated interest, on choosing the clothes to wear. "I believe ye can deal with a storm for a while-"

"It's not the storm, Jack", cut in Gibbs in a serious tone of voice. "It's something else..."


	61. Chapter 61

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 61**

"Jack", Gibbs gave Jack a _very_ meaningful look indicating that for once he was very, _very_ serious about the necessity to go on deck.

Jack was shifting his eyes from Gibbs to Elizabeth, for the first time finding it difficult to determine what his priority (at the moment) was.

Elizabeth picked out some clothes, gathered them in her arms, and without looking at anybody stormed off the cabin, and into the bedroom, loudly slamming the door shut behind her, causing Jack and Gibbs to cringe.

"Jack", repeated Gibbs almost pleadingly.

Jack looked at him, and then at last, muttered "aye", heading out of the Captain's Quarters. Gibbs wanted to follow him, but was stopped in his tracks. "Wait for Elizabeth", said Jack in a low voice. Gibbs wanted to say something, but then thought better of it, and just nodded. "An' make sure she wears a coat." Gibbs blinked, but nodded again. Jack took a step away, but then turned around. "An' that she has proper boots."

"Aye, aye", Gibbs nodded holding back a chuckle.

"An' a hat", added Jack wrinkling his forehead. "An'-"

"Jack", Gibbs interrupted him with a small smile.

Jack sighed, and nodded, and at last went away.

* * *

Elizabeth threw the clothes on the bed, and slumped down onto it, burying her face in her hands. She should not behave like that. After all, it was not like he had done anything wrong... How could she blame him... Him being the pirate that he was... _Captain Jack Sparrow_, she thought with a forced, mental snort. It was so obvious he would have never wanted to get married. He had just said that on an impulse, under the charm of the moment... But then, when he thought better of it... Besides, was it really that important?

She rose to her feet, threw the bed cover in which she was wrapped away, and began to dress herself. Sighing softly, she slowly put on an ash-pink dress. The ash-pink dress...

"_I did want to kiss you, though."_

Elizabeth smiled, and looked at herself in the mirror. It was the first dress she had worn after that accident...

Maybe he did not want to marry her, but it did not mean- Well, it was making her feel sad, oddly. Very sad, actually. And she was even slightly surprised _how much _sad. Still, maybe she should just give him time... _He might come to my side, eventually_, she thought with a smirk, cheering up a bit. Maybe she was being too harsh... After all, he had just asked her whether she was aware of how dangerous the life of a pirate was... Which was a funny thing to ask of a Pirate King, thought Elizabeth with a pout. But still...

She fastened the dress, and sat down on the edge of the bed. Strictly speaking, he had not even said anything about _not_ getting married... She inhaled deeply. _Oh, I'll give you hell as well, I think_, thought Elizabeth with a chuckle.

* * *

On his way up onto the deck, Will noticed one of the doors in the corridor being widely opened, and almost absently he peered inside, spotting his father.

"What are you looking for?", asked Will looking around Barbossa's cabin.

"Will", Bill Turner smiled, turning around towards him. "The chart", he answered with a sigh. "We still haven't found it."

Will nodded, but then suddenly he darted his eyes to the table, and to the book; that book which he had brought on the _Black Pearl_... He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, slowly approaching the table, and taking the book in his hands.

"Aye, we have that back at least", said Bill with a faint smile, resuming his search, and turning away from Will for a moment.

Will glanced over his shoulder at his father, and then put the book back on the table, and opened it. He remembered Barbossa telling him-

And he had to smile if only faintly, upon finding what he was looking for. There was a ripped page, complemented by the chart which Barbossa put inside the book to be able to read all the inscriptions. It was still there. The chart, and probably all the necessary information that had caused so much trouble. Making sure that his father was not looking, he scanned the writings quickly. There was indeed the lines dealing with the Fountain, with handing of the drinks... And there was also one passage that seemed particularly interesting, but he had no time to read it at the moment. Carefully, he tore not only the chart, but the entire page out of the book, and glancing over his shoulder folded it quietly, and put it under his coat just in time, and right before Bill Turner turned around.

He was not sure why he had done that... why was he taking the chart surreptitiously... Perhaps he could use it somehow...

"I think we should go back on the _Flying Dutchman_", said Will thoughtfully, almost involuntarily averting his eyes from his father. He felt as if he was being insincere towards him, even though what he was doing had nothing to do with him.

* * *

Having finally reached the deck, Jack looked around, blinked, and then looked around again. "What the hell", he muttered, wrinkling his forehead.

He walked to the rail, and stared out at the ocean.

...or at least at what _seemed_ to be the ocean...

"Are we... sailin'... there, Cap'n?"

Jack glanced at Ragetti, who asked the question in a hesitant tone of voice.

"Aye, we do. Unless ye're plannin' on flyin' over it", answered Jack grumpily, walking away, and directing his steps to the helm.

What had gotten into him to listen to the bloody whelp. He could have as well postponed that conversation... And now she was thinking that... He growled inwardly, and overtook the helm, releasing Cotton, and sending him to get some lanterns.

Soon it was going to be very dark around them... Even thought it was only the break of the day...

Jack narrowed his eyes, and looked at the ocean pensively. He looked at the waters they were about to sail now... Black waters, black waves of the black ocean. He had never seen anything like this before. The water was not merely dark. It was unfathomably, enigmatically, thoroughly black. And the only sound audible in that growing darkness was the low humming of water. Low, heavy, ill-boding humming of the black sea.

And the sky did not look much better. The soft blue shade of morning horizon was gradually turning into the pitch black, starless sky with not even the moon, _a _moon to hold on to... to guide... There was no guiding stars, no map, no chart. Only the compass that did not point north or anything else for that matter, except for a currently-very-upset-but-beautiful-nonetheless Pirate King... He sighed, and bit back a smile. Why had she had to get upset? And, most importantly... why had he had to ask that superfluous question? Well, maybe not all that superfluous, but still...

Jack looked up at the blackening sky, and the strange mist that began to descend from it; silver, and glittering fog hovering just above the masts. The fog looked... cold. Although it was not cold on deck. But there was an odd sense of coldness overpowering him every time he was looking up at the black sky.

The crew members began bringing the lanterns, and placing them in different places on the ship, as ordered. They did not have too many lamps, but perhaps enough to carry them through that darkness. They were nearing the Fountain, so the journey would not take up more than two days yet. Two days and two nights of darkness was not something to look forward to, but at the same time it was not something that they could not endure.

Jack brought his hand to his head to straightened his hat-

His hat?... He was wearing his hat. His hat that he had not taken from his cabin... Jack quickly turned around, and tried not to smile at the sight of Elizabeth standing shyly behind him.

"I thought you might want it", she said with a small shrug, trying not to smile herself.

Jack quickly looked her up and down, making sure that she was wearing a coat, boots, hat, and everything else necessary to keep her warm, should they hit another storm, which was rather inevitable.

"Aye, that I do", he said, looking at her for a moment intently, and then turning away from her, smirking only when she could not see his face anymore. He could hear her huffing behind his back.

"Jack", she moved to stand next to him, and he glanced at her absently, quickly shifting his eyes back to the horizon. "Jack."

"What, luv?", he asked with as much indifference as he could muster, looking straight ahead.

"I did not come to apologize", she stated resolutely, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Ah", acknowledged Jack rather blankly. "I thought not."

Elizabeth sighed in frustration. Actually... she did come to apologize, but the way he was behaving annoyed her, and she just did not feel like admitting to him that she was sorry... At least not right now... She looked stubbornly at him, waiting for him to say something yet, but he kept irritatedly silent, so she looked around-

"What is that?", she gasped, her eyes widening as she slowly examined her surroundings. How could she not notice this before? It was morning, but they were sailing across the darkest waters she had ever seen. The sky was pitch black, and so was the see. She noticed the lamps secured at the bow, and along the railing, as if embracing the _Black Pearl _with their faint, warm light.

Elizabeth stood transfixed, looking at the frightening darkness around her, and subconsciously taking one step backwards, which happened to be a step towards Jack, who took this opportunity, to tear one of his hands away from the spokes, and grab her from behind, pulling her towards him. She gasped in surprise, and looked up at him, when he locked her in his arms, trapping her between the helm and his body.

"What-", she started irritatedly, but he brushed the words away from her lips with a kiss. She meekly slid her arms around his neck, and sighed when he broke the kiss.

"Apology accepted", whispered Jack, smiling impishly.

Elizabeth blinked, suppressing a smile. "I did not-"

He leaned down, and cut her off once again, holding the wheel with one hand, and pulling her closer towards him with the other.

"I neither was, nor am taking back _anything_ I said", said Jack in a low voice, looking at Elizabeth intently. She looked at him from under her eyelashes. "All I was _trying_ to say, and what I _might_ have said if I was not interrupted-" Elizabeth pressed her lips against his in a brief kiss. Jack's sighed, seemingly unmoved, a noticeable glimpse of amusement flashing in his eyes. Elizabeth smiled slyly. "What I meant", Jack continued, with a twitch of his nose, "was ask ye whether ye know what ye're leaving behind, Lizzie. What ye're leaving behind forever, an' what ye may face-"

"I don't care", she pouted impatiently snuggling her face into his chest.

Jack knitted his eyebrows. "Not sure that's the answer I wanted to hear, luv", muttered Jack.

Elizabeth looked up at him, and for a moment he thought that she will provide him with a satisfactory, reasonable answer that would assure him that she knew exactly what she was doing. "I love you", she said softly, and smiled.

Jack almost growled, and rested his forehead against hers. "I know", he mouthed. She looked at him, waiting for him to open his eyes. "You must promise me something, 'Lizbeth", he said in a serious voice, slowly opening his eyes. Elizabeth smiled. "That you will listen to me sometimes."

"Sometimes", she repeated with a chuckle.

Jack rolled his eyes. "_Most_ of the times", he said in a low voice.

"What do you mean 'listen'?", she asked innocently, occupying herself with brushing some imaginary dust off his coat's lapels.

"I mean that if I ask ye, for instance, to stay below, ye don't appear, at the very next moment, right on deck, brandishing yer sword at everybody around", explained Jack, looking at her intently.

Elizabeth kept her eyes fixed on the lapels, holding back laughter.

"Luv?", said Jack in a mockingly menacing tone of voice.

"But-", Elizabeth started after a moment of consideration.

"But nothing", cut in Jack, looking over her shoulder, and slightly turning the wheel to the right.

"But I'm the Pirate King!", insisted Elizabeth, stomping her foot.

Jack widened his eyes at her, and she retreated slightly, with a ghost of a smile flickering across her face. "I need to know that ye'll follow me orders, luv", he said in a low voice, tucking a loose strand of her hair under her hat. "At least that. That's the unavoidably inexcusable minimum." Elizabeth sighed, and he propped her chin with his hand. "I can't keep ye save if I can't keep up with yer ideas, aye? I need some order on this ship." Elizabeth sighed again, and looked away. "That's the condition", he added with pretended solemnity, and she darted her eyes back to him.

"A condition? What does that mean?", she asked with slightly amused incredulity.

He leaned into her, and whispered: "Either we'll have _Mrs. Sparrow _who follows the captain's orders and lives on the _Black Pearl_, or we'll have _Miss Swann_ who follows her own orders and lives in Port Royal."

Elizabeth's eyes flew wide open, and she stared at Jack with exaggerated disbelief. "You wouldn't!...", she exclaimed with a chuckle.

"Oh yes, I would", replied Jack giving her a lopsided smile.

Elizabeth stood on her tiptoes, and whispered smilingly: "I know you could not possibly live without me."

Jack looked at her, clearly astonished. "An' who put such a funny idea in yer head, luv?"

"A certain pirate", answered Elizabeth, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Jack knitted his eyebrows. "Which one?", he asked, looking at Elizabeth questioningly. "I'll have him walk the plank for lying to ye, luv."

"Lying?", echoed Elizabeth, tilting her head backwards.

"Aye", Jack glanced at her, keeping a straight face.

"Very well", snapped Elizabeth haughtily, slipping under Jack's arm, and out of his embrace. "I shall get ready to step ashore in Port Royal, then", she said narrowing her eyes, and headed below deck, smiling to herself.

"May be not so soon", Jack called after her, smirking to himself. "But if ye wish, ye may pack now, of course, _Miss Swann_."

"I shall!", shouted Elizabeth over her shoulder, walking briskly down the stairs.

Jack watched her go, smiling impishly, but the ship jerked slightly, and it snapped him back to the sheer, that is black reality.

It seemed, that to add to their predicament, the storm was awakening.

* * *

Elizabeth walked into the Captain's Quarters, and after a moment of searching the trunks, took out a shawl out of one of them. It was dark green, and not very long. She examined it, and smiled. It was quite perfect. She was not entirely sure whether Jack would fancy putting it around his neck, since it was all velvety and lacy, but it was better than nothing, and it would keep his neck warm, and she shall enforce him to wear it. It was rather cold outside, and she was sure that it could only get worse.

She tied her hair more carefully, and put her hat tighter on her head, and then walked out of the cabin.

"Elizabeth."

She looked up while climbing up the stairs, meeting Will's thoughtful gaze.

"I thought you went back on the _Flying Dutchman_", said Elizabeth almost tonelessly, aiming at walking past him.

"I am going back now, but... Elizabeth?", he called again, and Elizabeth sighed, and stopped, looking at him with impatient expectancy. "I think you should go with me."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Will-"

"No, Elizabeth", he broke in matter-of-factly, his hand nervously clutching the rail. "I don't mean... I just...", he took a deep breath, and looked her straight in the eye. "Jack asked me to take you on the _Flying _Dutchman. It will be safer. Just for the time we'll need to sail through this black ocean", he said in a blank, steady voice.

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. "Well, he didn't tell me anyth-"

"He just told me this right now", cut in Will hastily, looking at her intensely.

Elizabeth looked away, and sighed. _Wonderful__ idea, Jack. You couldn't think of a better test, could you? Following the orders. Bloody, annoying-_

"Elizabeth, there's no time", said Will breaking through her thoughts. "Let's go", he took her by the hand, and led her down the stairs, expecting her to try to break free at any moment, but somehow she didn't... It seemed that she believed him...

"But", Elizabeth tried to protest, "why-"

"We'll take the back stairs. It'll be closer and easier to board", explained Will with a pale smile.

Elizabeth huffed irritatedly. Why did Jack want her to go on the _Flying Dutchman_?! It was not as if it was really safer, was it? Maybe he just wanted to see if she would listen to him... Although it was a bizarre way of checking-

"Come, Elizabeth", Will pulled her gently, but decidedly towards the railing.

"Wait. I just need to give him the-", she raised her hand with the shawl in it.

"There's no time for that, Elizabeth. The storm is breaking."

Elizabeth glanced around, suddenly noticing that the sea was churning up, although it was difficult to see the waves which were, indeed, becoming louder and louder with every passing moment.

"Hold on!", called Will catching the rope that was tossed to him from the _Flying Dutchman_, and then grabbed Elizabeth around the waist. "Hold on, Elizabeth", he repeated in a low, gentle voice, looking lovingly at her face, which so blissfully close to his for a brief moment.

Elizabeth gave him a blank look, a thought suddenly crossing her mind, but before she had time to clearly state to herself her suspicion, she was pulled upwards along with Will, and they swung on board the _Flying Dutchman_.

* * *

Jack stood at the helm watching the sky becoming completely, perfectly, almost beautifully black right before his eyes. The storm seemed to approach faster than expected, so he ordered to take down the lanterns, and store them away before the rain and wind would turn the deck into a battlefield between them and the nature, in which case the last thing they would need was yet the fire to deal with.

They were still at the Ghost Sea, only the colours changed, but not the mood. The mist was silvery gray rather than green, and the water was as black as coal. But the strangeness in the air remained.

If only they had the chart... They would at least know that they were heading in the right direction. Jack looked around watching the lamps being removed.

He wondered where had Elizabeth gone? He was certain that she had only pretended to be upset, so where had she-

Jack blinked. Looking towards the stern of the ship, in the dim light shed by the lanterns that had not been removed yet, he saw the most peculiar scene: Elizabeth swinging on the rope onto the _Flying Dutchman_. Well, actually more than that. Elizabeth _in Will's arms _swinging on the rope onto the _Flying Dutchman_. For a moment he thought that he was hallucinating. Or was she really upset after all, and was doing this to annoy him? Which would be a weird thing to do, but- She did not seem to be taken aboard the _Dutchman _against her will. So the whelp was not kidnapping her, which might be a good explanation. Otherwise, he had no clue as to why was she doing this.

He wanted to call somebody to take over the helm, so he could go after her, and see what was going on, but at that very moment a lightning struck the main mast, breaking the luckily empty at the moment crow nest, which burst into pieces, as if announcing the beginning of the storm. The rain began to flow from the black sky in torrents. And the rain seemed black too. Or _was_ it black?

All the lamps were gone, and now they were encompassed by the roaring blackness with nothing but their sense of the right direction, hoping that some invisible guiding stars will lead them to their destination.

And he might even find this challenge entertaining, if it was not for Elizabeth being gone. He tried to focus at the helm, but couldn't.

_Why the hell did she go on the Flying Dutchman?!_


	62. Chapter 62

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the great reviews!**_

...& no (in case anybody would like to ask this question lol), the fact that -deleted spoiler for this chapter here- does not mean that the story is over:)

Disclaimer: Disney owns POTC.

**Chapter 62**

As soon as her feet touched the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_, Elizabeth began to feel strangely anxious. And alone. And it was not only because of the darkness around her. It also interested her very much how was she going to be (presumably) safer on the _Dutchman_ than on the _Pearl_? Did the _Dutchman_ had some special advantage sailing across the dark waters? Maybe. Still, she would prefer staying on the _Pearl_, and there was also the question why Jack wanted her to go – anywhere – with Will? Perhaps he still trusted him, in a way. Despite everything that had happened. He had let him steer the _Black Pearl_, after all...

Before going down the stairs, Elizabeth shot a last glance at the _Pearl_, or rather at the place where the _Pearl_ should be.

"How can we sail if we can't see anything?", asked Elizabeth in a quiet, slightly annoyed tone of voice, as if she was rather talking to herself that to Will. They stepped into a dimly lit corridor, and she had a strange, unpleasant feeling of being in the wrong place.

"We'll be fine, we have the chart", answered Will without looking at her. He quickly opened the door to the Captain's Quarters, and motioned Elizabeth inside. "Please", he continued before she had a chance to ask when and how had they eventually found the chart. "Elizabeth, please, stay here. If you go outside, and be swept to the sea during the storm, nobody will even notice. It's too dark."

Elizabeth bit her lip, giving Will a stern look. He was right, but... "How long?", she asked, glancing around the cabin, and feeling totally out of place. For the first time it really occurred to her what it meant to _belong _somewhere, to belong _with _somebody. And she belonged on the _Black Pearl_. _With _Jack. Why had he had to come up with that ridiculous idea of making her go on the _Flying Dutchman_.

Actually... the longer she thought about it, the more improbable it seemed to her that he really-

"How long?", echoed Will uncertainly.

Elizabeth sighed. "How long do I have to be here? Did he say for how long? How long will it take to sail through this... black ocean? And why is the _Dutchman_ a safer place?" The questions would probably flow incessantly, if Will would not cut in.

"Elizabeth." Will put his hands on her shoulders. "Just stay here", he said in a low voice, forcing a smile.

Something artificial about his smile struck Elizabeth, but perhaps he was just worried...

"I'm sorry", she said on an impulse, seeing a shadow of that boy whom she had rescued passing in Will's eyes.

"What about?", asked Will hesitantly.

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders. "Everything", she sighed. "I never meant to hurt you."

He looked at her for a moment thoughtfully, and she had an impression that he was about to say something, but whatever it was that he was going to say, at last he decided not to, and just smiled reassuringly, and left her alone in the _Flying Dutchman_'s Captain's Quarters.

Will closed the door behind him, thinking briefly about locking the door. But if she would notice that the door was locked, she might have got suspicious... So he decided to take the risk, and leave the door unlocked, hoping that she will stay inside.

After all, from what he had overheard, he could draw the conclusion that she will stay inside... _For Jack_, he thought bitterly. Because he had asked her to listen to him, and she thought that it was him who wanted her to be here...

He quickly shook himself out of that sense of guilt that was blurring his mind, and went to some unoccupied cabin to examine the chart, and set the course. Now that he had the chart and Elizabeth, he could just sail as fast as he could towards the Fountain. Even though he did not know what he was going to do once they got there... Right now he just wanted to put as much distance between the _Dutchman_ and the _Pearl_ as possible.

...And hope that in that darkness, in the storm, without the chart, the _Black Pearl_ will lose her course, and will not be able to follow them.

After examining the chart, he went on deck, relieved his father, and took over the helm.

"We have to go with full speed!", he bellowed, grasping the wet spokes, shouting to everybody who could hear the orders through the rain, and the roaring of the black waves.

"Full speed?", he heard his father's slightly surprised voice. "I don't think it's-"

"It's an order", cut in Will in a voice, that seemed to Bill Turner colder than the rain, the night air, colder even that the fear of death...

"I think we should submerge, then", answered "Bootstrap", wishing he could see his son's face at the moment to decipher, or at least try to decipher his thoughts.

"No!", replied Will hurriedly. "We can't", he added in a a calmer, but firm tone of voice.

"Why?", asked Bill, even though it was probably not the best moment to continue a conversation, and there were more things he should be doing around the ship right now. But something worried him, and he wanted to know what it was...

Will did not answer immediately, and Bill thought that maybe he had not heard his question. "Will?", he called questioningly, holding on to a rope, when the ship jerked.

"We can't submerge", Will's voice at least reached him, and there was a hint of resignation in it, as if he did not really wanted to be saying what he was saying. "Elizabeth is on board", he added under his breath, wondering whether his father heard him.

* * *

Sailing at night was not an unusual thing to do. He had spent countless nights at sea, yet this night was unlike any other. There was not even one, faint star twinkling on the horizon, not even a dim glow of the moon. The darkness was complete, and perfect, almost thick. And he wondered briefly what had happened to the silvery mist that they had seen earlier. It might give out some light... But right now there was no light, no light at all, and it even felt, strangely, as if the light was gone forever. 

The light and Elizabeth. Why had she- Jack groaned, and gripped the spokes tighter. He could not get that thought, that question out of his head. Why had she gone there? Why the hell had she gone there? If she had done it simply to annoy him, then she succeeded. Although she could not have possibly chosen a worse moment. And she must have known that. Therefore, it seemed almost improbable that she had done that for such a trivial reason.

So if the reason was not trivial... What was the reason? They had not even argued. Well... technically they had, but-

Jack brushed the rain away from his face, from his eyes, although it was a rather superfluous gesture. He could as well close his eyes, and sail on. His vision could not be much worse.

He heard a low, ill-boding noise, which, oddly enough gave him hope. A thunder. If there will be thunders, they will get some light, and-

But he was soon proved wrong. The thunders and lightnings (_lightnings_, he thought with a snort) were as black as the waves, and the sky, and his mind probably too. At least at the moment. Was she at least safe on the _Flying Dutchman_?

Jack blinked, and growled with frustration. Why had-

He stopped in mid-thought, and blinked again. For a moment he just stood as motionlessly as he could, pondering the odd phenomenon... Then, very cautiously, he blinked one more time. And when he did, he saw, for a very brief moment a ship, the ship, the _Flying_-

He swallowed, not yet believing in what he had just discovered, and then, very slowly he closed his eyes, and...

"Mr. Gibbs!", shouted Jack, hoping that his voice will break through the growling voice of the sea. "Mr. Gibbs!"

"Cap'n!", called Gibbs, slightly surprised by the hint of cheerfulness in Jack's voice.

"Close yer eyes!", ordered Jack, taking a _look _around, and _noticing_ the _Flying Dutchman _growing strangely smaller and smaller as it sailed further and further away into the grim horizon.

"Cap'n?", Gibbs looked straight ahead towards where he believed the helm was, trying to make sense of his Captain's order.

"Close yer eyes and tell everybody to do the same!", repeated Jack firmly, steering the ship to the left, and cutting through a high, black wave. "An' get a more respectable look on yer face!", he added, and the comment finally snapped Gibbs into action.

He did not know what was the use of closing his eyes... But on the other hand he could not see anything anyway, so it would not hurt- And then, when he closed his eyes... "Do I really see what I think I see?", asked Gibbs _looking_ at Jack in astonishment.

"Aye. Pass the order. An' unfurl the sails. We've t'go with full speed", said Jack wrinkling his forehead.

It felt strange and quite unnatural to be able to see only with the eyes closed... But somehow it was exactly the case. When he tried to see anything with his eyes open, the only sight was the complete, overwhelming darkness. But when he closed his eyes, the world around became visible again. Even if the colours were darker and grimer, it was still almost perfectly clear picture.

Although what he saw was _not clear_ at all. Firstly, there was the absurdity of Elizabeth going with _him _on _his _ship. Secondly, said ship was making an oddly _good _time, as if they were running away from the _Black Pearl_. Yet, if they were going so fast, it at least suggested (if not made it obvious), that they knew where they were going. Now, just how could they know that? If the chart still had not been found... Ah. The chart. Jack narrowed his eyes, gripping the wheel, and observing with a smile as the sails were being unfurled.

Perhaps she had not gone on her own accord, after all? And if she indeed hadn't, then he will just kill that bloody, stupid whelp. That is... as soon as he will be capable of being killed... And if she had gone, because she wanted to? Well, then... Then he will have to think about it yet.

Although the longer he thought about it, the less likely it seemed, that she might have possibly gone there, because she wanted to.

* * *

Elizabeth paced around the cabin restlessly, feeling very uncomfortable and unhappy being left with nothing to do. She could only listen to the wind, the rain, and the roaring of the waves around the ship. And it was just not enough. She did not want to listen to the storm. She wanted to be _in _it. 

"_Ye're beautiful, brave, and invincible...ye're indomitable...indestructible...undefeated..."_

She rested her head against the wall near the window, and smiled. She would rather be on the _Black Pearl _right now. Near him. With him. So she could see him, touch him, know that he was close. She hugged herself and sighed. She knew that pain already. She had felt it before. She missed him. Every part of her body and every piece of her mind missed him.

She looked around the cabin trying to concentrate on something else. She noticed a trunk, her trunk, the only trunk that she had once brought with her on the _Flying Dutchman_. Slowly, she walked towards it, and squatted down pushing the lid open.

"_You are this sea...You are this night, and this wind, and the stars... And the tomorrow's sunrise, 'Lizbeth."_

She smiled thoughtfully at the sight of the clothes... those clothes that she had worn during that storm when Jack had let her steer the _Pearl_. That was why she could not have found those clothes in the trunks on the _Black Pearl_. She sighed, and closed her eyes, recalling that feeling, the feeling of the storm swirling around her, cold raindrops streaming down her face, and... Jack's lips placing soft kisses on her neck, his voice murmuring into her ear...

"_The Black Pearl is yours, Lizzie."_

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead. She could not just sit here and wait for the storm to be over. He could punish her for not following his orders, if he wanted. (She smirked briefly thinking what kind of punishment he might choose to apply.) But she was not going to sit her and do nothing.

She grabbed the clothes, and rose to her feet. Those clothes were better for what was going on outside than the dress she had on.

The Pirate King will not be taking any orders. _And you'll have to live with it, Captain Sparrow_, she thought with an amused snort, pulling on the breeches.

* * *

It was not difficult to get on deck unnoticed. And it was even less than not difficult to remain unnoticed once on deck. 

Elizabeth looked (or rather imagined that she looked) around in disbelief. The black, endless, ubiquitous horizon almost took her breath away. She could not see anything. The situation was worse than she expected. She could feel the rain on her face, and she was grateful for that shred of reality, that kept her conscious, and alert, while the darkness around her made her feel strangely helpless, and even drowsy. Holding on to whatever it was that she was holding on to, she made her way to the rail, and leaned against it. How could she get back on the _Black Pearl_ if she could not even see her? She stared helplessly into the darkness, hoping for a thunder, for a star, for any kind of light... But the light seemed to be out of reach. Like the _Black Pearl_. Like Jack. At the moment.

The ship rocked violently, and Elizabeth fell to the deck with a muffled scream. She must have hurt her arm, because it began to burn, but she managed to pull herself up back to the standing position, holding on to the railing. As soon as she stood, she suddenly saw a flicker of light, a faint shadow of brightness not too far away from her. She looked around, and noticed a crew member emerging from below deck with a lantern in his hand. Without delay, she threw herself towards him, and almost pulled the lantern out of his hand. The man looked at her in bewilderment, but before he had a chance to protest, she was already gone from view.

Clutching the handle of the lantern in her hand, Elizabeth stumbled to the side of the ship, lifted the lantern, and stared into the darkness dispersing slightly at the touch of light radiating weakly from the lamp.

To Elizabeth's surprise, she noticed that the _Black Pearl_ was quite far behind, but after another moment she noticed that she was gaining speed very fast, so apparently all that she needed to do was wait until the _Pearl_ would catch up with the _Flying Dutchman_.

"Elizabeth!" She spun around.

"I asked you to stay below!", shouted Will, holding up his own lantern, and reaching for Elizabeth's hand.

She snatched her hand away from his, upset by her own carelessness. She should have noticed how close she was to the helm, and that Will would see the light. "I'm sorry I have to go!", she said in a loud, but muffled by the rain voice, looking at him intensely.

"Go? Where?", Will fell against the rail, a wave hitting the ship from the other side, causing them both to lose their balance for a moment.

"I have to", said Elizabeth quietly, almost too quietly for him to hear it.

Will stared at her, stared at her in those dark, wet clothes, in that hat (a different hat than the one in which she was when he had taken her on the _Dutchman_. Somewhat grimly he noticed that this hat looked very much like Jack's hat. Or maybe his imagination was just running away with him...) Some loose locks of her hair were slipping out of her hat, and even in the dim light of the two lanterns he could see the fire in her eyes, that fire that always scared him a little, making him think that perhaps she was not exactly the person he thought she was... That there was something about her that he could not understand. Something that, ironically enough, Jack Sparrow seemed to be always taking for granted, as if he knew exactly what it was.

"Elizabeth", he put his hand on her shoulder, as if he wanted to prevent her from running away.

"I have to be there. I want to be there. I-"

"You want to be there with him", cut in Will gloomily, and looked at her, but she did not say anything, she just looked at him, and even in the rain he could see that her eyes filled with tears.

"Yes", she said at last, nodding slowly.

And he could tell her that lie once again, he could tell her once again that it was Jack who had wanted her to be on the Flying Dutchman right now. But somehow he felt that it would be pointless. She was determined to go, and that strange light in her eyes was telling him that he could not stop her. He wondered whether she had ever missed him that much, whether she had ever felt nothing but the need to be near him. Probably not. But was it love? Was it really love? He thought that love was something else, that it was the certainty, the stability, the security, and the overwhelming sense of tranquility, and not that feverish, strange attachment, that longing on the verge of madness. Love? Addiction, rather. The word struck him. Yes, that was it. She was addicted to _him_. It was some kind of addiction, not love. But it did not matter right now. She wanted to go, and he had to let her go, if he did not want to lose her trust entirely. He will have to think of another way... Now that it was clear that it was not love, but some kind of illness, addiction, something that could be cured...

He looked around, and with astonishment saw the _Pearl_ following close behind. How was it possible? Maybe they saw the lanterns...

"I will find the rope!", he shouted through the driving rain, storming off, and not seeing the smile on her face; not wanting her to see the grimace on his.

* * *

Jack stood at the helm looking out at the sea grimly. If the circumstances were different, he might have enjoyed the tempest. But the disturbing thoughts concerning Elizabeth made it impossible for him to concentrate on the beautiful task of staring his ship through the storm. The only consolation came from the fact that they caught up with the _Flying Dutchman_. They might even outrun it, but he did not want to do that. He wanted to see where the _Dutchman_ was sailing to, and whether the ship was heading in a consciously chosen direction, or rather rushing blindly forward, which would be less than not very reasonable... 

"Jack!"

..._more like stupid_, really, which did not mean that it was unlikely, although he was rather inclined to think that the _Dutchman _was sailing into a specific direction...

"Jack!"

...of the Fountain of Youth. No doubt it had to do with the chart. Perhaps-

"Jack! Where are you?"

Jack knitted his eyebrows, his train of thought suddenly interrupted. For a moment he thought that it was only an illusion, but when he heard his name being called yet several more times, he accepted the voice as real. He looked around with his eyes closed, until he spotted somebody sitting on deck, and trying to stand, and failing due to the waves rocking the ship mercilessly, and the waves breaking through the rail, and splashing on deck. His eyes widened (as much as it was possible under closed eyelids).

"Close yer eyes!", he shouted, looking around for somebody to take over the wheel for a moment, but nobody was in close enough proximity to stand at the helm so he could not go fetch her himself. "Close yer eyes Lizzie!", he screamed, not knowing whether he was more angry with her for her former disappearance, more happy that she was back, or more anxious, watching her trying to pull herself up on the slippery deck, looking slightly bewildered.

He wondered whether she heard him, because for a moment she was almost motionless, until he heard a short laugh muffled by the rain pouring down from the black sky.

"I can see!", she exclaimed, and Jack rolled his eyes, suppressing a smile, when she spotted him, and made her way to the helm as fast as she could. "Jack!", she shouted happily, grasping his arm, and quickly kissing his rain-soaked cheek. "We can see with our eyes closed! How did you figure that out?", she asked sweetly, trying to focus his attention on something else, and not the fact that she had apparently disregarded his order, and came back on the _Pearl_.

He turned his head, and looked at her somewhat sternly, as sternly as it was possible with all the joy that washed over him at the sight of her, and at the feeling of her lips on his skin. For a moment he wanted to forget what he was upset about altogether, and just kiss her, but...

"Ah. An' just what brings ye back so soon, luv?", he asked in an almost threatening tone of voice.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and blinked, holding on to him in the sudden darkness that enveloped her when she opened her eyes. She quickly closed them again, and looked at him intensely. "It was the most ridiculous order you could think of", she said, wrinkling her forehead. "And even if it wasn't, I'm not going to follow any orders anyway, so-"

"An order?!", cut in Jack, looking at her intently. The ship jerked, and Elizabeth lost her balance, but he managed to grab her before she fell down, pulling her towards him, and closing her between him and the helm. "Ye mean I _ordered _ye to run off with him?", he asked, turning the wheel, and for a moment darting his eyes from her to the sea.

Elizabeth held on to Jack's coat, looking up at him in bewilderment. "Run off?!", she shouted in disbelief. "What do you mean' run off'?", she asked with a nervous chuckle.

"I mean fallin' into his arms an' swingin' onto his ship", replied Jack darkly, glancing at her, and pulling her very close with one hand, while he made the ship turn with the other.

She gasped, for a moment unable to speak with her face pressed against his drenched coat, and he held her very close for a longer moment that it was perhaps necessary, before slightly loosening his embrace when they overcame another black wave.

"What are you talking about, Jack?", she asked, finally regaining her ability to speak, and staring up at him questioningly. Cold raindrops washed over her face, and for a moment she felt like back then during that storm when he had let her steer the _Pearl_...

He looked at her, and it stunned her that despite them both having their eyes closed, she could still see his eyes as clearly as if they were open. Although the expression in his eyes was not a particularly pleasant one. He looked at her angrily, and she tried to understand why, a vague suspicion slowly forming in her mind...

"Why the hell did ye go with him?", he asked in a husky, low voice, for a moment letting go of her, and grasping the spokes of the wheel with both hands.

Elizabeth grimaced. "I thought-", she trailed off, suddenly struck by an idea. "You mean you didn't want me to go there?", she asked uncertainly, looking at him with hesitation.

He withdrew one hand from the helm, and wrapped his arm around her once again. "Didn't I want ye to go there?", he repeated with a hint of irritated irony in his voice. "'Course I did. _I _wanted ye to run off with him", he snorted sarcastically.

"I did not run off with anybody!", protested Elizabeth, becoming at that point slightly annoyed herself. "Firstly, I'm here right now which makes it hardly possible for me to have run off", she said through her gritted teeth, brushing the rain away from her face with the back of her hand. "Secondly, because of that ridiculous conversation, I thought it was your order. That you wanted me to go there to see whether I'll follow your orders no matter how senseless they might be!", she shouted irritatedly, and actually tried to break free from his embrace, but his arm did not even move an inch.

He held her firmly in his arms, her words slowly sinking in. "Why did you think it was my order?", he asked in a calmer voice, looking at her intently.

Elizabeth sighed, not sure whether it was a good idea to tell him. "Will told me-", she started at last.

"Ah!", Jack interrupted her triumphantly. "It was his last words to ye, then. That's for sure", he said darkly, although he felt rather pleasantly relieved that it were only some stupid whelpish scheming attempts rather than Elizabeth's conscious actions.

Elizabeth looked at him for a moment, and then smiled to herself, stepping on her tiptoes, and bringing her lips closer to his. "Somebody's jealous", she said in a soft voice, smirking slightly.

Jack kept his eyes fixed at the sea past her for a moment, before shifting his eyes to her. "Not at all", he said decidedly, glancing at her lips, and then disinterestedly darting his eyes back to the horizon.

Elizabeth chuckled. "Are you certain?", she asked, sliding her hands around his neck, and inching her lips yet closer to his. "Maybe you should", she said, biting her lip, and smiling at the twitch of his mouth.

"An' why is that?", he asked blankly, but she could feel his arm tightening the embrace around her.

Elizabeth sighed audibly. "I don't know", she said with a pout. "I think I was gone for quite a bit of time", she said thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side.

She did not look into his eyes, but she could feel that he was looking at her intensely, his gaze burning her mind, filling her body with strange warmth, which contrasted shockingly with the coldness of the driving rain and the chilling wind. She waited for him to reply to her teasing comment, but he kept silent, so at last she cautiously looked up at him, only to be met by his lips crashing down onto hers. She gasped, wrapping her arms tighter around his neck, and kissing him hungrily. He pressed her closer against him, breaking the kiss at last, and steering the ship across the series of murky waves.

"This is not a joking matter, 'Lizbeth", he said in a low voice, catching his breath. "For _that_ I would not forgive you", he said tonelessly, scanning the horizon, and the dark waves that were gradually calming down.

Elizabeth watched his face for a moment in silence, the rain reverberating in her ears, her closed eyes fixed on his. Slowly, she brought her hand to his face, and placed it gently on his cheek. He shifted his eyes to her, and looked at her with his closed eyes glimmering in the dark night around them. "I know", she whispered into his ear, and nestled her face into his neck.

They stood wordlessly for a strangely long amount of time, cuddled against each other, Jack steering with one hand, the storm subsiding, the thunders quietening, the waves calming down, the heavy rain turning into a drizzle. The darkness, however, remained as perfect and complete as before.

Elizabeth shifted in his arms, and began trailing light kisses on his neck.

"If ye'll keep doin' this, luv, I'll get used to it, an' then ye'll have to do it every time I'm at the helm", said Jack with an impish smile.

Elizabeth giggled against his neck. "I may", she said, and kissed him again.

"Aye. But is it an appropriate thing to do for the Pirate King? The crew would see it, ye know", he said twirling a lock of her hair around his finger, and staring out at the calm, dark ocean with a smile.

"Oh, you would like that, I'm sure", replied Elizabeth with a chuckle. "You at the helm, and the Pirate King at your feet-"

"Neck", corrected Jack matter-of-factly. Elizabeth buried her face into the crook of his neck, and smiled. "But then they'd start to suspect that I had some hidden intentions when I voted for ye, luv", said Jack thoughtfully.

Elizabeth laughed, and looked up at him. "But you did not have any hidden intentions, did you?", she asked in as serious tone of voice as she could muster.

"'Course not!", exclaimed Jack, clearly expressing his indignation at the very thought. "I simply voted for the best candidate", he said, glancing at Elizabeth, who gave him a radiant smile in response.

"Of course", she said smilingly, slowly pressing her lips against his. "Jack?" Elizabeth drew back a little, and looked at him intently.

"What is it, luv?", asked Jack in a low voice, straightening her hat.

"Marry us", she whispered ardently.

He darted his eyes from the horizon to her, and smiled...

...only then suddenly realizing that his eyes were open. And he could see. "Lizzie, open yer eyes", he said cautiously, taking a look around, and trying to locate the source of light.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and turned around following Jack's gaze. "Jack, we can-", she stopped in mid-sentence, rendered speechless by the sight before them. "Jack", she gasped, her eyes widening in amazement.

"Aye", replied Jack contentedly, a grin forming on his lips. _So much for stealin' me chart, aye?_, he thought with an inward snort.

The sky was as black as before, the ocean as dark as during the storm, but not too far away from them, in the middle of perfect blackness was the source of bright light, its gold silhouette sparkling beautifully against the pitch black darkness above and around them. The source of light... Their long-awaited destination...

The Fountain of Youth.


	63. Chapter 63

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 63**

"This is beautiful", whispered Elizabeth, leaning against Jack, and looking at the glimmering shape of the Fountain of Youth on a small island in the middle of the dark, black sea.

"Aye", smiled Jack, wrapping his arm around her waist. "But it's not like I haven't seen anything more beautiful before."

Elizabeth smirked, but did not say anything. They stood transfixed by the sight for a moment, before they realized that it was oddly quiet on deck. No screams of joy, no cheers, no orders' inquiries...

"I think we ought to tell them that they can open their eyes now", said Elizabeth cautiously, as she watched Pintel run across the deck, and bump into one of the masts, falling to the floor with a loud thud.

"Aye. The lookin' part's back to normal, I think", agreed Jack, wincing at Ragetti tripping over Pintel. "Take the helm, Lizzie", he whispered, kissed her on the cheek, and went to the crew, leaving Elizabeth alone at the helm.

She clutched the spokes with her hands, and looked after him, smiling to herself.

* * *

"We're here", said Bill Turner thoughtfully, staring out at the little island glittering before them. 

"Yes", agreed Will in a hollow voice, glancing exhaustedly at the _Black Pearl _sailing right behind the _Flying Dutchman. _He'd had the chart, and he'd had Elizabeth, and now he did not have Elizabeth, and the chart was of no value anymore.

Well, almost of no value, as there was still that little passage on the back of it... The passage about returning the chart to the Spirit of the Fountain of Youth and gaining a prize in return...

"Drop the anchor?", offered Bill Turner cautiously, giving his son a small, reassuring smile.

Will looked at him absently, as if his mind was elsewhere, but after a moment, he nodded, and turned his gaze back to the island in front of them.

* * *

"Jack, we made it!", exclaimed Gibbs happily, when Jack finally convinced him to open his eyes. 

"Aye", nodded Jack forcing a smile, as he suddenly realized that he had not _exactly_ have the time to _exactly_ inform his crew that not _exactly_ all of them will be able to drink from the Fountain... As a matter of fact 'not all of them' was a phrase that shall be yet severely limited to 'three of them'... Only three people will drink... And to make the matters worse, one of those people was the captain of the other ship... which meant only two drinks left for the _Black Pearl_'s crew... The crew... Well, technically for the Captain... and his... _Ah!_ A thought crossed Jack's mind, as he suddenly remembered something more cheerful than the troublesome subject of his immortality. "Master Gibbs!", called Jack, even though Gibbs stood right beside him.

"Aye, Cap'n", answered Gibbs enthusiastically.

"Back the anchor, dock the ship, ye know what to do", said Jack, waving his hands in the air.

Gibbs looked at him in slight confusion. "Aren't ye goin' to dock the ship?", he asked incredulously. They were reaching their most-awaited destination, and it seemed a tad bit strange that Jack did not want to be the one steering the ship these last few miles to the island.

"No. I have some... urgent matter to attend", said Jack in a casual tone of voice, narrowing his eyes, and staring out at the glittering shape of the Fountain of Youth. "But it shall not take too long. I'll just... get married an' be right back", he added, turned around, and quickly walked away to avoid further questions at the moment.

"Aye", nodded Gibbs with a grin, his eyes fixed admiringly at the Fountain. "'Course. I'll-", he stopped in mid-sentence, his eyes widening, and his grin disappearing, and turning into an expression of ultimate astonishment when the meaning of Jack's words finally registered in his mind. He turned around to face Jack, but Jack was gone. Gibbs blinked, and after several moments which he had needed to recover, he went off to his duties, still pondering in wonder what he had just heard.

* * *

"Jack, what are we doing?", asked Elizabeth, trying to argue that they should rather stay at the helm. It did not happen everyday that one was making port on the island where the Fountain of Youth was. 

Jack held Elizabeth's hand in his, and led her below deck without providing any explanation. She sighed, and waited, until he opened the door to the Captain's Quarters, and they walked inside.

"Jack-", she trailed off, when he pinned her against the wall, and gave her his roguish smile.

"And I thought ye wanted me to do exactly that, luv", he said in a low voice with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes.

Elizabeth smirked, and slowly slid her arms around his neck. "I don't think it's the best moment, really", she said smilingly, leaning into him, and brushing her lips against his.

Jack chuckled. "I can't say I don't like yer line of reasoning, Lizzie-luv", he grinned. "But what I meant was...", he walked towards a tall cabinet, pulling Elizabeth with him.

He began rummaging through the drawers, and Elizabeth looked with curiosity at all the items that were there, from bullets and papers, through belts and bandannas, to... was that a fang?...

"What are you looking for, Jack?", asked Elizabeth reaching for a strangely shaped necklace, and examining it with interest.

"I had it somewhere...", muttered Jack, accidentally throwing a pair of horseshoes on the floor.

"Careful!", exclaimed Elizabeth, bending down to pick them up. "They bring good luck", she said quietly, turning the horseshoes in her hand.

"A tad bit superstitious, are ye, luv?", said Jack glancing at her with a smile. Elizabeth shot him a half-seriously annoyed look. "Ah!", he exclaimed happily, taking a yellowed parchment out of the top drawer. "Here it is."

Elizabeth put the horseshoes away, and went with Jack to his desk. He slumped down in his chair, pulling her onto his lap. Elizabeth took of her hat, untied her hair, and rested her head on Jack's shoulder, looking interestedly on the parchment. "What is it?", she asked taking Jack's hat off his head as well, and putting it aside next to hers.

Jack smiled, and unfurled the parchment, spreading it on the table, securing its sides with some books, so that it laid flat on the desk. "It's something to prevent ye from running off, dearie", he said in mock-serious tone of voice, opening a small bottle of ink.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and hit him playfully on the shoulder. "Will you stop?", she frowned amusedly, leaning over the desk, but Jack pulled her back toward him, wrapping his arm around her tightly, before she had a chance to read what was written on the paper.

"Not yet, luv", he said waggling his finger at her. Elizabeth pursed her lips. "First ye need to tell me something", he said glancing at her with a mischievous smile, dipping a quill in the ink, and carefully writing something on the parchment.

Elizabeth sighed, and pressed her lips against his cheek. "What?", she asked in a muffled voice.

For a moment he was silent, and she could only hear the scratching sound of the quill against the paper. When he finished writing, he put the quill next to the parchment, and sat back in the chair, looking at Elizabeth intently. She tilted her head to the side, and gave him an expectant look, and a smile, when he smiled at her too. There was something unusually thoughtful in his smile, and his eyes sparkled in the dimly lit cabin. He tucked some rained-soaked tresses of her hair behind her ear, traced the outline of her lips with his fingertips, cleared his throat, and asked in a low voice:

"'Lizbeth, do you take me to be your lawfully wedded husband, to love and to hold, from this day on until... forever?"

Elizabeth stared at him in silence, and for a split second Jack thought that she was actually thinking about it... But she was not thinking about it; she was just carving the moment in her memory. She cupped his face in her hands, and said quietly with a radiant smile: "I do." Jack smiled, and kissed her. "And I will love you through the good and the bad", she continued, "through the joy and the sorrow, through the sickness and the health, through the calm and the storm", she paused to catch her breath. "Do you", she smiled, "take me to be your lawfully wedded wife, to love and to hold, from this day on until forever?"

"Let me think...", said Jack thoughtfully.

"Jack!" exclaimed Elizabeth in artificial dismay, chuckling.

He smirked, and pressed his lips against hers. "I do", he said in an ardent whisper. "And I will love you through the good and the bad, through the light and the darkness, through the calm and the storm, through the joy and the sorrow, through the sickness and the health, in a dress as well as without it", Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, but smiled. "No matter how much of me rum you will burn", he paused, "unless you will burn all of it", he added pensively, looking away. Elizabeth giggled, and kissed him on the cheek.

"I won't burn _all_ of it, I promise", she whispered smilingly.

He looked back at her, smiled, and captured her lips in a passionate kiss. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, the world spinning around at a frantic rate, when he broke the kiss leaving her breathless, but with a sweet smile on her face. He took her hand in his, and smiled. "With this ring I thee wed", he said pointing to the green ring on Elizabeth's finger.

"No!", Elizabeth withdrew her hand, and wrinkled her nose.

"No?!", Jack widened his eyes in surprise.

"This is an _engagement_ ring", she pouted. "Now you have to give me a new one", she said in a haughty tone of voice, looking at Jack with a playful frown.

Jack sighed. "Luv", he started in a solemn tone of voice, taking her hand in his once again. "I do intend on getting us proper wedding rings, but it might be just a tad bit difficult at this very moment, aye? Unless you want us to turn away now, sail back to get the rings, and then come back here."

Elizabeth glanced around the room as if really considering this. "Oh, alright", she said at last with a small smirk. "But how about your temporary ring?", she asked, looking at her ring.

"Well", Jack smiled, lifting one of his hands. "Just designate one of these, luv."

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, and sighed. "Maybe...", she pointed to the ring with a bright, red stone. She took Jack's hand in hers, and said with a smile. "With this ring I thee wed."

"By the power vested in me, I pronounce us husband and wife", said Jack with a self-satisfied smile, looking into Elizabeth's eyes with the intensity that sent shivers up her spine. "I may kiss me bride now", he added with a roguish grin, bringing his lips closer to hers.

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "You did that four times during the ceremony already", she said smilingly, putting her finger across his lips.

"Aye", agreed Jack, and kissed her finger. "But now I have to do this officially, _Mrs. Sparrow_."

Elizabeth rested her forehead against his, closed her eyes, and smiled. "I like how it sounds", she whispered dreamily.

Jack grinned. "Me too, luv", he said, entangling his fingers in her hair. "But I think I like how it tastes like better", he added with a mischievous smile, crashing his lips against hers.

* * *

The _Black Pearl_ was safely anchored next to the _Flying Dutchman_, close to the island, but not too close, because of the threat of the shallows which could not be identified due to the darkness of water. The crew members on both ships were running around the decks excitedly, admiring the view, the sight of the Fountain which was rewarding in itself. 

Will put the chart in his coat pocket, and left his cabin, his eyes stopping for just a moment on the dress that Elizabeth had left in the half-open trunk.

He got on the main deck, and ordered the long boat to be prepared for those who were going to go on land.

On land...

He blinked, suddenly remembering that he could not step on land.

"There seems to be a river going inland, so we'll just follow it in the long boat, and then we'll see", said Bill Turner as if reading his son's thoughts.

Will smiled weakly. "Alright", he nodded, and averted his eyes.

"You did the right thing", said Bill carefully after a moment of silence. Will darted his eyes to him, and looked at him blankly. "Letting her go..."

"I didn't let her go", cut in Will in a low voice. "She went", he added hollowly, and walked away.

_I didn't let her go... And I won't let her go... I will never let her go..._

"Where do I sign?", asked Elizabeth excitedly, pressing her cheek to the side of Jack's face. She even liked the very look of the parchment, not to mention the writing on it. She had never actually seen marriage papers before. It had never, until now, occurred to her that in fact they had not signed anything with Will... There was no time, of course, no occasion... But still... It was yet another proof that _that_ marriage was not valid, and the conviction made her feel infinitely better. She liked the idea of not having been married before... She did not want to think about _before_. She wanted to think about the present and about the future. It was still too early to think about the past. She thought that someday she will be able to think about the past without all those painful, bitter feelings tugging on her mind. But not now, not yet. Not until the past will be really left behind.

"Here, luv", said Jack handing her the quill, right after having signed the marriage papers himself.

Elizabeth pressed the quill to the parchment, and put her signature where Jack showed her to place it.

She looked for a moment at the paper, reading it all over once again, and Jack watched her with an amused smile, quite amazed by just how much she obviously enjoyed all of this, how much she cared. He gently cupped the side of her face, and turned her head towards him. She smiled, and softly kissed his chin, his nose, and then his lips.

"So what do we do now?", asked Elizabeth, looking at Jack expectantly.

"Now ye're all mine an' I can do with ye whatever I want", announced Jack smugly, waiting for a slap, even if only a playful one. But fortunately no slap occurred.

"And what do you want to do with me, Captain Sparrow?", she inquired smilingly, inching her lips to his.

"Can't tell ye, luv", replied Jack in a whisper. "Ye're too young." He brushed his lips against hers, and smiled.

"Well, I'm a married woman now so it adds to my age, in a way", she argued, looking into his eyes intensely, and feeling giddy only from the way he looked at her.

"True enough", agreed Jack with a smirk. "What do ye propose we do, then, me married luv?", he asked, nestling his head in her neck.

Elizabeth tried to think of an answer, but feathery-light kisses that were being trailed along her neck were not exactly helping her concentrate. "Jack..."

"I'm right here, luv", answered Jack smiling against her skin.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I did notice that", she said with pretended annoyance.

Jack looked up at her, and smirked. "I hope ye did. Would be terribly ill-boding for our merry married future if ye didn't."

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and smiled. "We have to go", she said quietly, and kissed him.

"Aye", agreed Jack, but made no attempt to move, instead he just continued looking at her in that overpowering manner.

Elizabeth shook her head in resignation, and kissed him again.

* * *

"Our longboat is ready. Is yours?", asked Will approaching Gibbs on the _Black Pearl_'s main deck. 

"Aye, aye, it is", answered Gibbs cheerfully, smiling at Will and Bill Turner.

"We're ready to go then?", inquired Will, looking at Gibbs expectantly.

"Aye", Gibbs nodded, but did not move, glancing around uncertainly.

"What are we waiting for?", asked Will after a pause with slight impatience.

Gibbs grimaced, trying to quickly construct a reconciliatory answer, but somehow he could not think of anything better to say than that they were waiting for Jack.

"What-", started Will, but stopped in mid-sentence temporarily distracted by Pintel and Ragetti who ran across the deck yelling at each other.

"Ye were not supposed to throw it overboard!!", shouted Pintel angrily.

"I did not throw 'im overboard!", tried to argue Ragetti. "Ye did!", he added triumphantly, suddenly struck by the idea.

"Me?!", screeched Pintel, hitting Ragetti on the head. "I did not!!"

"So... so... so did not I!", stated Ragetti in the most resolute tone of voice he could muster.

Everybody watched the scene for a moment, but at last Will darted his eyes from the senseless argument, and looked back at Gibbs... who, however, taking the opportunity to flee and avoid further questions, was no longer there.

* * *

"So while he's still immortal he'll give the water to one of us, me, for example, and then I'll give it to you, and you to him", summed up their little _drinking plan_ Elizabeth playing with one of Jack's dreadlocks, her head resting on his shoulder. 

"Aye", answered Jack unenthusiastically, feeling a bit awkward with not telling Gibbs about the limited number of drinks.

"Have you been thinking about it, Jack?", asked Elizabeth quietly, squinting pensively into the distance. "Have you been _really_ thinking about it?"

"'Bout what, luv?" Jack tilted his head to the side.

"About immortality", replied Elizabeth with a sigh."What it will be like..."

He pressed his cheek to her forehead, and looked across the cabin towards the window, where among the black, quiet waves, and beneath the dark sky was the source of strange light glimmering in the close distance. "No", he answered at last truthfully, surprising her.

"No? Because I just thought... It just crossed my mind that...", started Elizabeth tentatively.

"That we'd have to watch our children die", offered Jack gloomily.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she lifted her head abruptly. "Children?", she echoed quietly, and blinked.

Jack looked at her, and despite the strangely grim thoughts that ran across his mind at the moment, he could not help but smile at the sight of her facial expression. "Aye. Isn't that what you-"

"N-no", Elizabeth shook her head, blushing, and upset with herself for doing so, not really knowing why she was blushing in the first place. "I just thought that... it might be difficult to watch everybody die", she explained hurriedly. "In general...", she looked at Jack, and pursed her lips seeing him smirking at her in that annoying way of his. "What?", she asked with slight irritation, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nothing", replied Jack innocently, still smirking. "Only that... one would think", he continued after a pause, sifting her hair through his fingers, "that it never crossed yer mind, luv, that one day", he leaned forward, "we might be presented with a couple of wee corsaires", he said wiggling his eyebrows.

Elizabeth stared at him with an unreadable expression on her face. He smiled, and buried his face in her hair. "Didn't mean to scare ye, luv", he whispered with a chuckle.

"You didn't", she said at last, sliding his arms around his neck.

"So where does that look come from?", he asked with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes, looking up at her.

Elizabeth shifted her eyes to him, a trace of a smile flickering across her lips. "I just didn't think you... I didn't think that you wanted... that you thought... I don't know...", she trailed off with a helpless sigh.

"I didn't think 'bout it... before", said Jack, playing with her hair, "but now..." Elizabeth tilted her head to the side. "But with you...", he looked at her. "I do want to have a child with you, Lizzie", he said in a resolute whisper.

"Oh. "Elizabeth bit her lip, and smiled impishly.

"An' I want him to have your eyes", he added, brushing his lips against hers.

Elizabeth drew back. "Her", she corrected. Jack blinked. "It will be a girl with _your_ eyes", she said with a smirk.

"Now, now, luv. You can't know that just yet at all", argued Jack, cupping the side of her face, and stroking it gently with his thumb.

"Neither can you", retorted Elizabeth with mock haughtiness.

"Aye, but ye know that I have a tremendous intuition, luv, so-", countered Jack complacently.

Elizabeth put her finger across his lips, and inched her face close to his. "A girl", she said distinctly.

Jack narrowed his eyes in playful irritation, and pulled her into a ferocious kiss. "A boy", he whispered challengingly, breaking the kiss. Elizabeth giggled, her laughter suddenly mixed with the loud knocking on the door.

They both looked toward the door, and then at each other, as if knocking on the door was the most unthinkable thing ever.

"Open the door", demanded the voice from the other side.

Jack rolled his eyes. "I can't recall inviting _him _for our wedding", he muttered twitching his nose.

Elizabeth smiled, and kissed Jack on the lips. "I guess it's time to go anyway", she observed quietly, slipping off his lap.

Jack folded the marriage papers, put them into a drawer, and staggered to his feet. "Actually, I do have a word to tell him-", he started for the door with a smirk.

"No!", Elizabeth whispered urgently, catching Jack by the sleeve. "Jack, no, don't tell him."

"Why not?", he looked at her with such an infantile disappointment, that she made an effort not to laugh.

"Because", she said quietly, leaning into him, to keep her voice unheard outside the cabin, "we don't need a fight, or even an argument right now."

"Why not?", repeated Jack ruefully.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Can't we just resolve this entire quest, and focus on our personal problems later?"

"We don't have any personal problems", retorted Jack, knitting his eyebrows. "He does", he said pointing at the door.

Elizabeth shook her head disapprovingly, but then grabbed Jack by the lapels of his coat, kissed him, and smiled.

* * *

"It looks like the river leads to the Fountain", observed Bill Turner, smiling faintly.

Will stared straight before him, rowing in silence. Jack was rowing in silence as well, his eyes fixed on the space ahead of him. Elizabeth looked at him with slight exasperation, and sighed inaudibly. She knew that he was not happy with being proscribed from 1) not telling Will about the marriage 2) not hitting Will for that one unfortunate slap a couple of days ago 3) not hitting Will _again _for taking Elizabeth on the _Flying Dutchman_ and lying to her that it was Jack's wish that she had gone there.

And at that she had told him: "Oh, yes. Lying is just about the most unforgivable course of action ever", at which he had put on a hurt facial expression, and had not talked to her throughout their getting into the longboats, and rowing away from the _Black Pearl_. And even though she knew that he was only _half_-seriously upset, she was shooting him sincerely annoyed looks from time to time.

"Yes, it does seem to connect the sea with the Fountain", replied Elizabeth from her and Jack's longboat with a small smile, shooting Jack a _look_, which he did not seem to notice.

It had seemed quite senseless to be taking two long boats instead of one for only four of them, but Jack had not even wanted to hear about rowing one longboat arm in arm with Will, and Will probably would not have been very fond of the idea either. So Jack and Will were rowing their two _separate_ longboats in silence, while she and Bill Turner tried to improve the atmosphere and carry out a polite conversation across the space between their vessels.

"So strange it looks, an island like this in the middle of darkness", said "Bootstrap" thoughtfully.

"In the middle of nowhere, as if", replied Elizabeth with a sigh, looking around. The light from the Fountain illuminated the entire island, as little as it was, and it also illuminated the river in such a way, that they had an impression as if they were sailing along a dazzling ray of light.

"No wonder it was difficult to find", sighed Bill with a warm smile.

"Yes", Elizabeth smiled back at him. "But then we found it just when we least expected it."

"Aye", nodded Bill approvingly. "Very true. Very often very true", he smiled.

Elizabeth smiled at him too, and then looked at Jack grimly, but noticing a familiar glimpse of mischief in his eyes she could not help but smile again; this time at him; at her husband.

She locked her eyes with him for a moment, suddenly remembering their first kiss. Their _real _first kiss, when he was neither unconscious, nor was she trying to trick him. That kiss in Tortuga. And she remembered that strange desperation of that kiss, impatience, arrogance, which now she knew was merely the fear of the moment to disappear, of her memory to come back and take her away from him.

And right now it appeared to her that he was wrong all along, that even if he had told her the truth, even if she would have regained her memory much sooner, the fate would still find the way to intervene, because they were each other's fate. Elizabeth smiled to herself, making a mental note to tell Jack about her thoughts later.

"Here it is!", she heard Bill Turner's voice, and shook herself out off her reverie.

She looked up, and saw the Fountain right in front of them, standing in the middle, or rather at the end of the river. It was not as large as it had looked from the ship, but the shining light emanating from it was making it look greater.

"Welcome."

They all started at the unexpected sound. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she looked around in apprehension. Bill and Jack eyed the Fountain and its surroundings curiously. Will narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

"Quite a year, this is", said the voice, stressing the words strangely. "Another visitors, so soon."

They all exchanged glances with each other.

"Another?", whispered Elizabeth inaudibly.

"So", continued the voice. "Which two of you will drink?"

Jack blinked, Will wrinkled his forehead.

"Two?", asked Jack hesitantly in a rather loud, although as friendly as possible tone of voice.

Everyone looked at him, before they darted their eyes back to the Fountain.

"Yes, which two?", repeated the voice calmly.


	64. Chapter 64

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 64**

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence in which only the quiet sound of the dark river flowing beneath and around them could be heard.

"That would be the end of his grand plan, I guess. We can as well just turn around and row back", said Will with a snort, addressing his father, but having in mind another addressee, and apparently having forgotten that it was in fact Bill Turner who had come up with the idea of lifting Will's curse by drinking from the Fountain of Youth in the first place...

"Unless ye'd wish to reconsider parting with yer fishy ship", observed Jack with a friendly smile, receiving a reprimanding tap on the hand from Elizabeth.

"Or you can just be the good man that we all know you are and hand me the drink", retorted Will drily, without even looking at Jack.

Elizabeth turned her head, and looked at Will irritatedly.

"That was yer bright, original plan, wasn't it?", replied Jack, causing Elizabeth to look back at him with clear impatience in her gaze. "Yers and yer late friend's", he added, narrowing his eyes in a smile.

"And your _most _original plan was handing me over in exchange for the _Black Pearl_", snapped back Will, staring straight ahead.

Jack blinked in temporary confusion, having some troubles with identifying immediately what Will was referring to. "Ye have a bloody good memory, mate", said Jack at last, honestly taken aback by Will still remembering such a far removed in time event. "An' a bad one at the same time, 'cause, in fact, ye got yerself exchanged", Jack pointed out matter-of-factly, but then a smirk flitted across his lips. "Not that I'm criticizin' ye, seein' that ye exchanged yerself for me and me wife havin' a lovely night on a deserted island", he added as an afterthought.

Elizabeth widened her eyes at Jack, and crossed her arms over her chest, looking very angry.

But not half as angry as Will, who actually began staggering to his feet, but was stopped by Bill Turner who grabbed him by the shoulders, and sat him back down. "What did you say?", asked Will through his gritted teeth.

"Can you both stop?", demanded Elizabeth in a loud voice which sounded even louder in the strange quiescent atmosphere around them. "We have to decide what we're going to do", she added decidedly.

"What did you say?", repeated Will, ignoring Elizabeth's request.

"I said-", started Elizabeth in hope to save the situation, but Jack cut her off, receiving a glare from her, which, however, did not stop him from politely repeating what he had been asked to repeat:

"Me and me wife."

Elizabeth sighed, and put her head in her hands. _Stubborn bloody... pirate!..._

It suddenly occurred to her that it was strange that she was not doing anything, that she was not shouting at him, scolding him, or at least trying harder to interrupt him... And it surprised her even more when she realized the reason for not doing any of these things...

"_A wife should not argue with her husband in front of other people." _She remembered hearing that sentence from her governess, although she had never given it a second thought, not was she inclined to agree with it. But now it just sprung to her mind, and it irritated her at first, but then made her smile... It felt funny to give in, and let him do what he wanted to do... even if what he wanted to do was an irritatingly unreasonable thing to do at the moment...

It crossed her mind that if it was what he had meant by _listening_, he should be happy now. Although she will get him for not listening to _her_ later, she thought with a frown.

"What is that supposed to mean?", asked Will sharply, glancing at Elizabeth who was sitting with her head hidden in her hands, as if she wanted to stay away from the argument.

"It means that a _marriage_ at sea is _valid_ only if it is a _rightful_ captain who performs the ceremony, and also only if certain_ legal_ _documents_ are being _signed_", explained Jack calmly, but with a strange glimpse of seriousness in his eyes. "Therefore seein' as ye'd neglected to observe _both_ of these conditions-"

"Are you saying that Elizabeth and I are _not_ married?", cut in Will, the anger in his voice temporarily veiled by sincere astonishment and disbelief.

Jack smirked. "Yes, quite to the contrary. It's Elizabeth and _I _who _are_ married."

Will blinked. Bill Turner rubbed his forehead, and glanced at the Fountain of Youth, wondering whether _the voice_ was listening to them, and whether it was going to interrupt them at some point, or merely tell them to go away...

Elizabeth's half-amused attitude faded, as she could, even without looking up feel Will's eyes on her.

"You... married him?", he asked in a hollow voice, still not really understanding what was going on. They _were_ married. They _had_ got married. Barbossa had... Barbossa. _"Rightful captain." _Will wrinkled his forehead. No, they had not signed anything, but it was only because they couldn't... There was no time... They were simply not able to...

Elizabeth slowly lifted her head from her hands, and reluctantly shifted her eyes to Will. "Yes", she whispered.

"You _signed_ the... marriage papers with him?", he asked nigh unconsciously, barely registering his own words, staring at her through the semi-darkness around them, trying to find some trace of hope in her face, in her eyes, but there was none. She was looking at him sadly, but it was not a gaze of regret or guilt; it was merely a gaze of sympathy. _Sympathy._

"Yes", she nodded, and Will's face twitched, and for some reason that small reaction hurt her more than it would if he shouted at her.

"Well", said Jack all of a sudden, after a longer moment of intense silence, "I think we should continue what we came here for", he proposed casually, with even a hint of cheerfulness in his voice.

Elizabeth shot him an annoyed look, and he widened his eyes, as if surprised by the fact of being glared at, but she could see a trace of a smirk hovering over his lips, and she was upset with herself that it almost, _almost_ made her smile back at him, but fortunately she managed to keep a straight face and look as annoyed as before.

"Comin' back to our discussion-", started Jack, but was interrupted by the sound of an oar hitting the water surface.

"What are you doing?", asked Elizabeth, alarmed, darting her eyes to Will, who had grabbed an oar, and was apparently going to row back.

"I'm going back to the _Flying Dutchman_", he explained plainly.

Bill Turner tried to protest, but Will ignored him.

"You can't!", exclaimed Elizabeth, giving Jack an irritated, see?-I-told-you! kind of look.

"Why not?", asked Will so sharply that Elizabeth cringed.

"Because-"

"So your conscious will be clear?", Will cut Elizabeth off decidedly.

"What do you mean?", she asked tentatively, after a pause, feeling at twinge of guilt at his assumption.

"Is anything wrong with that?", broke in Jack in a suddenly serious, and strangely considerate tone of voice.

Will snorted, dismissing the question as ridiculous, but the truth was that he did not have an answer to that. Because was there really anything wrong with Elizabeth not wanting to feel guilty because of him? Was it fair that she was responsible for his fate? What right did he have to make her carry the responsibility for lifting his curse in ten years?

"And what if I don't want this curse to be lifted?", he asked with slight impatience, turning his head to look at Elizabeth. "What else do I have now? Maybe that's the best I can do. Stay at sea and take care of the dead", he snorted. "It's as good a life as any other that I might have in this world... now."

"It's not true!", protested Elizabeth. "It's not a life, and you know it, and you never wanted it, it just happened, and now we have a chance to fix it."

"We?", he echoed with a broken sneer.

Elizabeth sighed audibly. "Yes. I want you to be happy, I may not... love you, but I still care about you, and-"

"I don't want you to", cut in Will coldly, looking at her gloomily. "I don't want you to _care _about me, I don't need your _friendship_", he added in a low voice, and averted his eyes.

"I'm sorry to hear that", replied Elizabeth. "Maybe some day you will understand that friendship is important."

"But not as important", he countered quickly, and she bit her lip.

"It is important that ye stop thinkin' 'bout yerself for a moment", observed Jack matter-of-factly, causing Will to shift his eyes to him, and he wanted to reply, and say something about Jack's unarguably altruistic nature, but then he remembered a conversation that they'd had some time ago aboard the _Black Pearl_.

"_...I'm sure it can't match the amount of selflessness in the act of leaving somebody to grieve in seclusion for ten years."_

"Which two of you will drink?" All of a sudden, the voice resounded again, as calm and patient as before.

Everybody looked at the Fountain.

Will closed his eyes. He did not want to stay at the _Flying Dutchman_. He really did not want to stay in the world of the dead... "Alright", he whispered, and opened his eyes. "Whom am I to give the drink to, then?", he asked into the distance, without looking at anybody in particular.

Bill Turner smiled faintly, Elizabeth sighed with relief and smiled, and Jack smiled as well, and then he looked at Elizabeth, and his smile disappeared.

Elizabeth blinked, and then her smile slowly faded, as she was suddenly struck by the realization. But she quickly assessed the situation, and stated decidedly: "To Jack."

Will looked at Elizabeth blankly.

"No!", exclaimed Jack, wrinkling his forehead. Elizabeth looked at him curiously. "To 'Lizbeth."

Will shifted his eyes to Jack, and raised his eyebrows.

"No!", protested Elizabeth, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Why not?", asked Jack incredulously.

"Why not?!", almost shouted Elizabeth. "And why you don't want to drink it?"

Jack glanced around as if in search of an answer. "'Cause... I don't want to drink it", he stated triumphantly, as if he had just given the most exhaustive explanation.

"Is this argument about who will or who will not drink?", the mysterious voice cut in unexpectedly, causing some confusion.

"There would be no argument, if there would be as many drinks as there ought to be", snapped Jack.

"Jack!", hissed Elizabeth through her gritted teeth, not considering it a good idea to be rude to some enigmatic spirit who was, apparently, guarding the Fountain of Youth.

"There _are_ as many drinks as there ought to be", replied the voice with astounding calmness, and for a moment Elizabeth had an impression that she even heard a hint of amusement in it. "There are three drinks every hundred years and in this century there already was one visitor."

"Would it be perhaps possible to learn his name?", inquired Jack with an artificial smile.

"What for?", asked the voice after a pause.

"Curiosity", Jack and Elizabeth answered simultaneously, and glanced at each other smilingly.

"I don't take names", announced the voice, causing everybody's temporary alertness to drop. "He had a different accent than you have, but he spoke the same language", the voice continued after a moment of consideration. "And now I'd like to know which two of you will drink?", asked the voice, this time with certain impatience.

"Bloody rascal", muttered Jack incredulously, knitting his eyebrows together.

"Who?", asked Elizabeth interestedly.

"Villanueva", answered Jack, and Elizabeth's eyes widened. She stood up in the longboat, and moved closer to Jack, sitting down right in front of him.

"Why? How do you know?", inquired Elizabeth disbelievingly.

"We met him two days or so after leaving Tortuga. He warned us that we should turn back, 'cause we won't survive the storm, an' that the entire quest is 'not wo_r_th it'", said Jack mocking the Spanish captain.

"After leaving Tortuga? How come I don't know anything about it?", asked Elizabeth narrowing her eyes.

"Now ye know", replied Jack with an impish smile.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips. "I'm the Pirate King!", she said defiantly.

Bill Turner suppressed a smile at a strangely familiarly-sounding sentence.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Lizzie-luv, I don't see how it is the most important thing at the moment", he said in a low voice, leaning towards her, and fighting the inclination to use the most efficient technique of calming her down.

"I think we shouldn't procrastinate any longer", suggested Bill Turner cautiously, glancing at the Fountain. Will just sat grimly in the longboat, staring at his hands.

"Yes", Elizabeth sighed. "As I said", she said looking at Jack intently. "You drink it."

"No. You", said Jack firmly.

They gazed at each other intensely for a moment. At last Elizabeth inched her face to Jack, and asked in a suddenly very soft voice tone of voice: "But why, Jack? You wanted it. You searched for it. You had wanted to find it even before", she smiled, "we met in Tortuga. Why now-"

"You don't know?", asked Jack with a trace of a smile flickering across his lips.

Elizabeth looked at him thoughtfully, tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and smiled. "But I'd like you to live forever", she said quietly with a pout.

Jack cupped her face in his hands, and smiled. "And I'd like _you_ to live forever, Lizzie. But _I _don't want to live forever... without you-"

"So it seems that we are both left with our ordinary, limited, earthly existence", cut in Elizabeth with a small smile.

"Aye. But I wouldn't exactly call it _ordinary_", smirked Jack, and for a moment forgetting where and with whom they were, he kissed her softly on the lips.

"But...", Elizabeth grimaced, worried. "What about...", she glanced at Will.

"Ah", acknowledged Jack with a twitch of his nose. There was indeed a problem. Who would hand Will the drink? If neither of them was going to become immortal...

"We are ready", said Bill Turner all of a sudden, attracting the general attention. "My son will drink. And I will give him the drink", he said, facing the Fountain.

"You can't", started Will, catching his father by the arm.

"Why not?", asked Bill Turner with a glimpse of amusement in his eyes. "I'm quite dead already." Will looked at him uncertainly. "Here", Bill Turner pulled something from under his coat and closed Will's hand around it.

Will opened his hand, and his eyes widened at the sight of a dagger, the dagger, the same that his father had given to him, and with which Bill Turner had later cut out his heart...

"Don't look so aghast", said "Bootstrap" with a small chuckle. "We've discussed that."

"I know", nodded Will, still staring at the dagger. "I just... It's just... I don't know", he trailed off, and sighed.

"Look", Elizabeth's voice broke into their conversation.

Will turned his head, catching a glimpse of light flickering somewhere near them, and then he saw a small, gold cup floating in the air towards them. Bill Turner reached for the cup, and when he closed his hand around it, the light shone brighter for a moment, and then slightly faltered, sending off only a small glimmer surrounding it like the thin, gold mist.

He extended his hand, and Will hesitantly took the cup from his father's hands, and as soon as he touched it, the golden glitter dispersed, and it seemed that he was holding the water in an invisible cup. But when he neared his lips to the magical liquid he could feel his lips touching the glass, the glass that was so thin and transparent that it was impossible to see it.

Jack squeezed Elizabeth hand reassuringly, and she smiled at him faintly, shifting her eyes back to Will, who glanced at her thoughtfully, before taking a small sip from the cup, and then having exchanged a long look with his father, who smiled at him and nodded, he drank the rest of the Fountain's water.

The cup vanished as soon as he finished drinking, and for a moment the space surrounding them all brightened, blinding them, and they closed their eyes opening them only when the light finally faded.

Will gasped at the sight of the chest that suddenly appeared in the longboat between him and his father. Elizabeth put her hand to her mouth, feeling the tears welling up in her eyes when she remembered how she had hidden the chest in that house that now she could hardly even remember, and how she had promised to herself, to Will that she would be back in one day. One day. One day that stretched into the eternity... Jack put her arm around her, and pulled her closer to him.

Will looked at chest, thousand thoughts running through his mind when he thought about all of those moments that were connected with it, about the first time when he had seen it... About Elizabeth running to him, happy to see him...

He pulled out the key that he had picked up from the floor in the _Black Pearl_'s Captain's Quarters on that day when he had at last, unambiguously discovered...

The lock clicked, and he pushed the lid open... Will blinked.

The chest was empty. It was not there. His heart was not there. He felt a cold shiver of panic running up his spine at the thought, his heartbeat quickened, he looked-

He blinked again. His... heartbeat... quickened?... He wrinkled his forehead, and slowly put his hand on his chest... and smiled. Bill Turner put his hand on Will's shoulder, and smiled at him as brightly as he could, trying to blink back the tears in his eyes.

Elizabeth brushed the tears away from her eyes with the back of her hand, and leaned her face against Jack's, smiling.

It was over. The curse was broken. He was alive. He was free.

She was free.

"Will, ye have to do it now", said Bill Turner in a low voice, looking at his son intently.

Will opened his hand with the dagger, sighed, and nodded. Elizabeth snuggled her face into Jack's chest, and he closed his arms around her, exchanging a thoughtful look with Bill Turner across the distance between their longboats.

* * *

They were about to leave the Fountain, when Jack suddenly stopped everybody with a wave of his hand, and said in a loud voice:

"I'm havin' a thought here." Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Since we have put so much effort in comin' to this grand place, wouldn't it be reasonable if we could receive all that we should receive, and what we're not receivin' only 'cause we've chosen not to receive it... at the moment, but perhaps we'd wish to receive it some time later, and then it'd be quite superfluous comin' all the way back here only to receive what we, in fact, have already received by comin' here now", concluded Jack with a self-satisfied smile.

Will exchanged a meaningful look with Bill Turner. Elizabeth squinted, wondering whether the voice guarding the Fountain of Youth was able to make sense of Jack's words; since she wasn't.

"What is it that you mean?", asked the voice with some interest (or puzzlement...).

"I suggest we take that remaining portion of the water with us... away with us... for further... use, as if", proposed Jack nigh cheerfully. Elizabeth widened her eyes at him, but he tapped her hand reassuringly. "If that's possible", added Jack politely. Elizabeth rolled her eyes, but to her surprise, the voice answered:

"Yes. It is. If you can handle the responsibility. The rules that apply to drinking the water here, apply to drinking it everywhere else as well."

"Of course!", exclaimed Jack contentedly, and before Elizabeth had the time to express her opinion, a small gold bottle floated towards them, and landed in their longboat.

Jack smiled, turning the smile into an apologetic one, when Elizabeth glanced at him with exasperation. "Thank ye very much. Now we all ready to go", said Jack in the general direction of the Fountain, grabbing the oars.

"I don't see why do we need it, if we can't drink it", observed Elizabeth grumpily, taking the bottle, and looking at it interestedly.

"Luv", Jack smiled benevolently, "there is never too many things to have in one's life, that one may put to further use by tradin', exchangin', otherwise sellin' them at one or the other opportune moment, aye?"

"Aye", replied Elizabeth with a small smile, putting the bottle away.

"I forgot!"

They turned his heads at the sound of Will's voice coming from the other longboat.

"What is it?", called Jack.

"I forgot to return the chart", answered Will, pulling the chart out of his pocket, and looking at it pensively. "It says at the back that it has to be returned to the Spirit of the Fountain of Youth", he added seeing everybody's questioning looks fixed upon him. He hoped that nobody would want to check his words against the truth and read what was written on the chart. If they read it, they would find out that the chart did not have to, but only might be return to the Spirit of the Fountain in the exchange for a prize. A prize. Will had no idea what could that be, and he did not really care about it too much, but he thought that it did not hurt to go back and see what it was all about, and what the prize was.

Somehow he managed to convince his father to relocate himself to the Jack and Elizabeth's longboat, so Will could row back to the Fountain faster, and be back sooner. Perhaps they were all too dazed from the whole experience, or perhaps he sounded convincing enough, that they let him go without any further questions, and without any suspicious looks. Well, maybe almost without any suspicious looks, as Jack certainly gave him a look that could be considered as such...

But they let him go nonetheless, so he rowed back to the Fountain as fast as he could.

* * *

"It was surprising that nobody wanted to return it yet", said the Spirit in response to Will stating his willingness to return the chart, and he could not decide whether there was a trace of a sneer or a smile in the voice now. "So you want the price."

"Prize", corrected Will, squinting suspiciously.

"Of course. The prize."

"Is their a price for the prize, then?", he asked, watching the Fountain intently, although apart from the glittering shape he could not see anything, nor guess from where the voice was coming from.

"There is always a price for every prize, but I am not the one who sets it. You set your own price by choosing the prize that you want. Now", continued the voice, before Will had the chance to interrupt it. "The chart..."

Will did not even do as much as to raise his hand, when the chart was suddenly turned into the gold ashes which fell out of his hand right into the black mirror of the dark river.

"And now", the voice spoke again. "What is your wish?"

"My wish?", Will looked narrowed his eyes, puzzled.

"Yes. Your wish. You may have one wish, and this wish will come true. This is the prize."

Will stared into the semi-darkness in bewilderment. "My wish...", he whispered.

"So?", asked the Spirit of the Fountain of Youth calmly. "What is your wish?"


	65. Chapter 65

A/N: _**My wonderful reviewers: thank you so much for your amazing reviews!**_

...I really don't understand... Not so long ago everybody felt sorry for Will and wanted him to be happy... And now, that we are just about to make Will happy, everybody seems to be upset about that:?... lol

Spoiler: ... & I was just wondering... does anybody remember Elizabeth's dream from chapter 8?...;)

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 65**

"You were determined to tell him from the very beginning, and even when I asked you not to, you agreed already knowing that you will tell him nonetheless!", frowned Elizabeth, crossing her arms over her chest.

Jack calmly closed the door to the Captain's Quarters behind them, took off his hat, and hanged it on the hook near the door. Elizabeth watched him intently, but he seemed not to be listening to her at all.

"I am talking to you!", she exclaimed at last annoyed, watching him slowly slip his coat off his shoulders, and wordlessly throw it over a chair.

Truth to be told, she was not all that upset about telling Will about her and Jack's marriage (although it might have – and it almost had – caused Will to resign from drinking the water, and then he would have stayed on the _Flying Dutchman_ which would have ruined her peace of mind forever... Which, she had to admit, was rather a selfish reason – although not the only one – for which she had wished the curse to be lifted). And even though everything had ended well, she decided that she could not just let the matter slip. After all Jack had done something that she had specifically asked him not to do. And that in itself was unacceptable.

"Jack", she said in a half-angry and half-desperate tone of voice, but again he made no move and uttered no word that indicated that he was paying any attention to her.

Unhurriedly, he directed his steps to the side cabin, sat on the edge of the bed, and sluggishly took off his boots. Elizabeth walked to stand in the doorway, and continued gazing at him piercingly.

She was about to snap at him again, when in one swift movement, he pulled his shirt over his head. And although it was certainly not (she gasped furtively) the first time that she saw him without his shirt on, it still made her feel oddly helpless, and she found herself staring at him perhaps less piercingly, and more... pleadingly (!?), as if, instead.

"What are you doing?", she asked sharply, not knowing what else to say.

He gave her a surprised look. "I'm goin' to go to me bed an' sleep, seein' that we won't be settin' sail just now. The crew is tired, they need rest. So we'll rest for few hours, an' then we'll be on our way back to our bonnie world, aye?" He swept his eyes over her with seemingly mild interest, staggering to his feet, and walking to a cabinet.

"And one would think we have just got married" said Elizabeth through her gritted teeth, not sure herself whether she was actually complaining, or just snorting purposelessly.

"Ah!", Jack spun around at that, and she blinked thinking that perhaps he was going to apologize- "Speakin' of bein' married", he narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing his shirt. "Could ye... be as kind as to mend it, luv?", he asked in a strictly matter-of-fact tone of voice. "There is a hole up on the sleeve", he added, handing her the shirt.

Elizabeth stared at him dumbfounded. He looked back at her, as calmly as ever, a tiny smirk hovering over his lips, but she was probably too annoyed to notice it at the moment.

Squinting angrily, she turned around, ready to leave, but before she took as much as one step away from him, she felt two arms wrapping around her waist from behind, and pulling her close.

"I see no sense in getting mad at me on our wedding night", he murmured into her hair, and she felt all the anger involuntarily evaporating from her mind at an instant. "Do ye, darlin'?"

Elizabeth took a sharp intake of breath, and he smirked, turning her around in his arms.

"You will mend your bloody shirts yourself", she said with a huff, narrowing her eyes, and standing as stiffly as she could, trying to delay the surrender (which she already felt creeping over her) for a moment yet, if only for the sake of her ridiculous notions of woman's pride and Pirate King's dignity.

"Aye", Jack smiled mischievously, throwing his shirt away. "That I can do myself, but I'd rather focus now on the things that I cannot do all by me onesies, aye?", he said pulling her closer, and leaning into her, but she turned her head abruptly, and his lips met with her cheek instead of her lips.

"I am mad at you", stated Elizabeth decidedly, trying, very unsuccessfully, to keep herself from shivering (and smiling).

"Is that so?", he asked with great amusement, sliding his lips across the side of her face to her neck. Elizabeth gasped. "I'd say ye're mad, luv, but not exactly _at_ me", he whispered, placing open-mouthed kisses on her neck.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and almost involuntarily sneaked her hands around him. "Jack", she whispered. "Leave me alone", she said in a faltering voice.

Jack chuckled. "That'd prove _me_ mad", he said under his breath, pushing the coat off her shoulders.

"Why... you never listen to me", she whispered, and he was not sure whether the question was directed to him or to herself.

"I do", he answered, slipping his hand under her shirt, and smiling impishly when she moaned, pressing herself closer to him. "I am listening", he murmured, crashing his lips against hers in a fervid, demanding kiss. Elizabeth deepened the kiss, revelling in the sweet, overpowering feeling of being so close to him, of being safe in his arms. "Off", he whispered breathlessly, breaking the kiss, and she opened her eyes laboriously. "All of it", he said tugging at her shirt. "Off. Now."

"Well", gasped Elizabeth with a smile, "if you want it off, you have to take it off yourself", she whispered smugly, slipping out of his embrace.

"That can be easily arranged, _Mrs._ Sparrow", answered Jack with a smirk, closing the door for which she headed.

"You seem very certain, _Captain_", said Elizabeth with a glimpse of amusement in her eyes, taking a few steps backwards.

"Aye", smiled Jack, slowly walking towards her. "Certain I am."

* * *

Will sat at his... at _his father's_ desk in the _Flying Dutchman_'s captain's quarters, and stared at his hands. At an object in his hands... 

It looked as if it was gold, but he did not think it was... Or perhaps it was, after all... Why shouldn't it? He turned the item around in his hand, running his fingers along the smooth surface.

Perhaps it was just gilded. The bracelet was not too thick, and not too heavy. But it did glimmer quite beautifully in the dimly lit cabin.

"_Strange wish, that is."_

"_Strange? Is love not the most important thing in the world?"_

"_Yes. Perhaps. And yet you're not asking for love, are you?"_

"_I am. I just don't want love that comes because of some spell."_

"_And yet it is the spell that it will come from."_

"_No. The spell will just... let me fight for it to really happen."_

"_It is your wish and your choice. And your reasoning. So... I will just ask you one last time. Is this your wish? Is this what you want?"_

"_Yes."_

"Are ye certain?"

Will cringed, instinctively closing his hand over the bracelet. He turned his head, and sighed at the sight of his father. "It's you", he said quietly, not really knowing whom else he had expected (feared?...) to see.

"Yes", replied Bill Turner with a small chuckle. "So are ye certain?"

"Certain?", Will rose from the chair, squeezing the bracelet in his hand, and wondering whether his father had noticed it.

"That you don't want to sail back on the _Black Pearl_. You know there will be not enough time to get you back all the way to the Caribbean. Soon we'll have to submerge. I'll have to leave ye in the nearest port."

Will nodded absently. "That's all right. I don't even know if I want to go back to the Caribbean", he added gloomily.

"Aye, well", Bill Turner stepped closer to him, and smiled reassuringly. "Ye can go wherever ye want, and do whatever you wish."

Will looked up at him, alerted. Why all of a sudden he was suspicious of every word that was being uttered around him?... He already felt as if he had done something... wrong, although he had not done... anything.

Yet.

* * *

Elizabeth draped her hand across Jack's chest, and smiled against his bare skin. 

They were lying on the bed, cuddled against each other, scarcely talking, and mostly just exchanging looks and smiles. Jack was lazily running his hand up and down Elizabeth's arm, his face buried in her hair. It was so rare, that feeling of peace and safety, of sweet quiescence, of each other's presence with no uncertainty, no hesitation, no lies hovering over them threateningly. For once everything had been said and explained. The choices had been made. The paths had been chosen. The future was not divided into two dark alleys that might never cross, but instead it was a shared road, the one to and along which they would always travel together.

Everything was in perfect order. The crew had somehow accepted the fact that the Fountain of Youth had dried out (the smart fact that had been helpfully suggested by Gibbs upon his learning about the true course of events), although they had not been given the opportunity to dwell on the sad discovery, because they had been immediately presented with the cheerful news about their Captain's marriage, and (since the marriage itself was not likely to put them into a good mood) the proper celebration that was going to take place in Tortuga after they would make it back. The prospect of several days of free rum (despite Gibbs' timid protests at to whether they could actually afford it...), fine food, and music was welcomed with joyful shouting, cheering, and hollering which had lasted even after Jack and Elizabeth had withdrawn below deck.

Elizabeth lifted her hand, and gently pressed her open palm to Jack's chest and smiled, feeling his heart beating under her touch. Jack kissed the top of her head, and murmured her name. She tilted her head backwards, and studied his face for a moment. He did not open his eyes, but after allowing her for some time to play with the trinkets in his hair, and trace the outline of his face and his lips with her fingertips, he caught her wrist, kissed her hand, and then pushed her onto her back, pinning her hands on either side of her head. She smiled, and looked at him, waiting for him to open his eyes, which he soon did, his dark orbs flickering with mischief. He slowly leaned down, and brushed his lips against her smile, transfiguring it into a grin.

"Do you know...", he whispered, tenderly kissing her lips, "how much... for how long I've been dreaming about this..." Elizabeth slid her hands around his neck, pulling him closer. "About you in-"

"In your bed?", guessed Elizabeth with a giggle.

Jack smirked, and kissed her ardently, cupping her face in his hands. "No", he breathed. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow with amused scepticism. "Well, not only", amended Jack with a roguish smile, and Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, looking at him smilingly. "I dreamt of having you in my life, of you being a part of it", he said in a low voice, tracing her jawline with the back of his hand. Elizabeth smiled wordlessly, leaning into his touch. "I'm still dreaming", he added thoughtfully, burying his face into her neck.

Elizabeth ran her hands down his back, and closed her eyes. "But I'm here, Jack. Why do you dream about something that you already have?", she asked softly, hugging him strongly, and smiling as she did so, and he groaned playfully as if she was strangling him.

"I'll never stop dreamin', 'Lizbeth", he whispered into her ear. "'Cause ye _are_ my dream, that dream which I'm going to dream forever." He lifted his head, looked at her, and lightly touched her face with his hand. "There was a time I was afraid to even touch you like this."

"Oh Jack", Elizabeth bit her lip, and grimaced. "You can do everything you want with me", she said in a sweet voice, planting soft kisses all over his face.

Jack chuckled. "Ye know, Lizze, perhaps ye should think twice before suggestin' that", he said smilingly.

Elizabeth laughed. "I just did", she said with a glint of amusement in her eyes.

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Well", he grinned. "In that case...", he leaned down, and pressed his lips against hers in a fervent, passionate kiss.

* * *

Will emerged on the deck from below, hoping that the fresh air will help him organize his thoughts. But it was very humid outside, and the humidity only deteriorated his headache which was bad enough already. 

He leaned against the railing, and stared out into the darkness brightened by the beautiful glitter of the Fountain of Youth in the distance.

The curse had been broken. He had been given back his life. His destiny had been overcome. If it ever was his destiny... What was his destiny? Was there such a thing like destiny? Or was it just a chain of accidents, chances taken or missed, choices ignored, well or badly made, purposeless events, and meaningful incidents, over which it was an attempt of a madman to try and take control... And he certainly was not a madman to even consider that he could possibly have any control... He opened his hand, and looked at the bracelet.

And yet here he was, holding a piece of control over destiny in his hand.

But did he have a right?...

He sighed, and closed his hand, his thoughts drifting to the past, to those few truly happy moments. And maybe even more than few... Once upon a time she had loved him... She must have loved him... She had looked at him, she had smiled at him... She had wanted to marry him... She had-

Jack's words interrupted his train of thoughts reminding him about _the other_ marriage. He still could not believe it. How was it possible? How was it possible that she had married somebody else, disregarding their marriage, everything that they had got through... Even if... Even though perhaps their marriage was not as it should be... It was hectic, it was chaotic, but yet it was real. Even without some papers, and despite the fact that it was performed by somebody who was perhaps not entitled to perform it... And still, it was meaningful. At least for him...

He remembered her face during that storm, and when she had said 'I do'... When she had agreed, when she had married him... He was the happiest man in the world. For that short amount of time before his death. His quasi-death...

And there was yet one more happy moment... One night... Their only night together.

He wondered if she had ever regretted it...

He snorted inwardly. Of course she must have regretted it.

He opened his hand, and lifted the bracelet to look at it in the faint light emanating from the Fountain of Youth.

He could still just walk away... try to forget... leave it behind... He was given a new life. He had been dead, gone, lost, trapped among the ghosts, and now he was alive again. He could do whatever he wanted. He could get a house, a small house that he had always wanted to have, and settle down in some small village, and become a part of some small community of friendly people. Find a wife, have children, lead an ordinary, wonderful, quiet life... And his conscious would be clear... still...

Still... Still, he just could not get her out of his head. He just couldn't. It was a curse worse than being bound to the _Flying Dutchman_. It was the curse that hurt every day, that haunted him every night, and while he wished to find the way to break free from it, right now he knew no way of doing that. Right now the only thing that he could think of was winning her back, trying to win her back.

He loved her. He really, deeply loved her. Did it matter? Did it make his choices more justified? Or just on the contrary, did it just prove him more selfish?

Yet, he was not going to force her to do or feel anything that she did not want to do, or happen to feel... But didn't he deserve a chance to show her just how much he loved her? That she could be happy with him? That they could be happy together? Because they really could. He knew they could. He just needed some time to prove that to her.

Maybe she could fall in love with him... again.

Will closed his eyes, and sighed. He wanted to try. He did want to try and see if she could fall in love with him.

He just wanted a chance... He could have asked for her to love him... He could have asked for Jack to die... He could have asked for them to stop loving each other... He could have asked for so many instant solutions, and yet he had only asked for help, for a ray of hope, for a chance, for an opportunity...

Will stood leaning against the railing and staring into the distance, absent-mindedly playing with the gilded bracelet in his hand, and thinking about the future, thinking if Elizabeth will like that veranda, the project of which he had drawn so long ago...

* * *

"A honeymoon!", exclaimed Elizabeth excitedly, sitting up in the bed. 

"Aye. It's what ye're supposed to do after ye got married, isn't it?", Jack propped himself on an elbow, and smiled at her. "So where would ye like to sail to for our honeymoon, honey-luv? Any special demands?"

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in an effort to come up with an answer quickly.

Jack watched her with a smile, slipping his hand underneath the bed cover which she kept wrapped tightly around her body.

"I don't kn- Jack!", she stared at him with amused indignation, and he grinned, pulling her down, so they both were lying on their sides, facing each other.

"So", Jack inched his face to her.

"So", Elizabeth motioned herself even closer, putting her leg over his.

"Where does me bonnie royal buccaneering wife want to sail to?", he asked, sifting her hair through his fingers, his eyes locked with hers.

Elizabeth giggled quietly, brushing his lips with her fingertips. "And you? Where would you like to go for our honeymoon?"

Jack squinted pensively. "I think I might quite enjoy...", he started matter-of-factly, "lockin' up with ye in this very cabin for thirty days."

They looked at each other for a moment intently, before Elizabeth burst out laughing.

"Just tryin' to be honest", said Jack defensively, pouting slightly.

Elizabeth smiled brightly, and kissed him. "Agreed", she whispered sweetly with a sigh, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jack blinked. "Agreed?", he echoed incredulously.

"Aye, aye", muttered Elizabeth capriciously, cuddling closer against him. "That's what I said, Jack: agreed", she said with a smile, and kissed him softly on the lips. "Unless _you _changed your mind?", she inquired, drawing back a little.

"'Course not!", exclaimed Jack, pulling her back into him, and wrapping his arm around her.

"Good", Elizabeth smirked, and pressed her lips against his. "And now", she whispered with her lips still touching his, "if you'd be as kind as to...", she flashed him an impish smile, "_embarrass_ me again."

Jack narrowed his eyes, grinning. "I see that yer memory has definitely improved, luv."

"While the company...", she paused, and Jack stopped in mid-action, looking at her with amused expectancy, his lips an inch above hers. Elizabeth laughed. "Is as good as before", she finished, and slightly lifted her head to meet his smiling lips.

"I love ye to death, 'Lizbeth", he whispered vehemently, looking down at her, and drawing his hand across her face.

Elizabeth smiled at him thoughtfully, and grimaced lightly, bringing her hands to cup his face. "Don't say that. It sounds sad", she said quietly.

"But it's true", replied Jack, brushing his lips over her collarbones.

"And I love you... to lunacy", stated Elizabeth after a moment of consideration.

"To what?", asked Jack with a muffled chuckle, his lips trailing feverish kisses along her neck.

"Lunacy", she gasped, when his hand slid to rest on her hip. "Madness, frenzy, insanity-"

"Amnesia", offered Jack humorously.

Elizabeth giggled, and tilted her head to the side to look at him. "To everything", she whispered, and Jack smiled.

"An' forever", he added in a low voice, cutting off the possibility of any further discussion with his lips descending upon hers, and not leaving them until she herself did not feel like talking anymore.

* * *

It was strangely quiet on deck, and for a moment Will thought that he was the only one that was still awake. Most of the crew had gone to rest and get some sleep, and there were only two or three people left to guard the ship. 

Will slowly crossed the deck, and walked towards the bow of the _Flying Dutchman_. He almost did not feel the bracelet in his hand. The metal was no longer cold, now that it had acquired the warmth emanating from his body.

He rested his elbows on the railing, and looked towards the _Black Pearl _which seemed as quiescent as the _Flying Dutchman_.

"_What is it?"_

"_When you put this bracelet around her wrist, she will fall asleep for seven days, and then when she wakes up, she will not remember anything."_

"_And anybody..."_

"_And anybody. Yes. And after she wears it, the lock will vanish, melt into it, so there will be no turning back and no way of taking it off. Bear that in mind."_

Will put his head in his hands, and closed his eyes. He had to find the way to talk to Elizabeth somehow. And even that, as hard as it might be, was not enough. He had to come up with a plan. With a good, detailed plan. And come up with that plan quickly.


	66. Chapter 66

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews:)**_

Spoiler: This is the last chapter (oh, why am I always doing this to you lol) that is fairly happy... As we are sailing towards the darker horizon now...

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney. And the four lines that Jack quotes belong to William Shakespeare (Hamlet, act II, scene 2).

**Chapter 66**

"Ye should sleep, luv", said Jack in a barely audible whisper, stroking Elizabeth's hair, and looking into her eyes, a warm smile hovering over his lips.

"You should sleep", whispered Elizabeth, her eyes fluttering shut for a moment, before she opened them again to meet Jack's intense gaze.

They were lying cuddled against each other, hands and legs intertwined, making the embrace as tight as possible, their eyes locked, and lips almost touching.

"I don't want to sleep. I want to look at me wife", whispered Jack, brushing the locks of Elizabeth's hair behind her ear.

Elizabeth smiled sweetly. "So do I", she breathed. "At me husband", she whispered.

"Let's... not sleep, then", said Jack with a small smirk, reached for her hand, and kissed it.

"Let's not sleep", repeated Elizabeth quietly, tilting her head forward a little, and pressing her lips against his.

They smiled, and continued staring into each other's eyes in glimmering, cozy silence interlaced with the humming of the sea, until it quietly, clandestinely carried them away to sleep.

* * *

Will surreptitiously swung onto the _Black Pearl_, feeling awkward as soon as he landed on the dark deck.What was he doing here? What was he doing... He almost did not feel the bracelet in his hand anymore. He kept it in his hand for so many hours that it just felt natural against the palm of his hand. Yet, it was not natural. It was thick and heavy, but not so much in a literal sense. Sense... Was he doing a sensible thing? Was it a sensible thing to do? 

Somehow he felt as if he did not care about the real answers to those questions. He _wanted _that wish, his wish to come true more than he cared whether it was reasonable, or honest, or good...

And yet, he still did not have a plan, he did not know what to do. He could not just walk below and ask Elizabeth to talk to him... And even if he could do that. What would he do next? Give her the bracelet; as a good-bye gift? That was a good idea. That was the part that he had actually come up with already. And it even had every right to be successful... She would probably accept the gift. And he would manage to make her wear it right away without much trouble, probably. But what then? She would collapse to the floor and lose consciousness for seven days, but... how could that help? He would have to kidnap her, ran away with her to the _Flying Dutchman_, and do all of that while remaining unnoticed, which was unimaginable. Jack would not just let them talk for a long time, and even if he did he would become suspicious quickly, and then of course he would figure out where they went... (Not to mention the problem of explaining to Bill Turner why Elizabeth was unconscious, why she was on the _Dutchman_, and why he wanted to set sail immediately... It was hopeless. His father would know right away that something was not right, and he certainly would not participate in his plan even if he would chose to reveal it to him...).

Another idea would be to convince everybody that Elizabeth died... that she was dead, and then he could quite naturally take her on the _Flying Dutchman_ and-

Will took a sharp intake of breath, and leaned against the rail of the _Black Pearl_. What was he thinking? What kind of thoughts were these? When had he learnt plotting such ridiculous, despicable schemes? How could he-

"_I had a dream about you last night. About the day we've met. Do you remember?"_

Will put his head in his hands and sighed, trying to calm down.

... He could make the crew believe that she was dead... They would not be able to verify it anyway... They would just have to take his word for it... And Gibbs... He would believe him too, probably... But...

Jack. He would not _just _believe him. He would take her in his arms (Will gritted his teeth), check the pulse, check her breathing, listen to her heartbeat... And the Spirit of the Fountain of Youth had not said that Elizabeth would be dead, as if. It had just said that she would be asleep, therefore her breathing would remain normal, and her heartbeat...

Her heartbeat...

Her heartbeat would also be present. So Jack would know that she was not really dead. What is more, he would probably notice the bracelet... and began suspecting something...

And then the dream would be over. There was no way-

"So we'd better tell the Cap'n."

Will blinked and turned around at the sound of somebody's voice. The deck was empty, and dimly lit, the only source of light being the Fountain of Youth glittering in the distance.

"If we tell anybody they'll think it's our fault", answered another voice grumpily.

Will wrinkled his forehead, and as noiselessly as possible made his way towards the part of the ship from which the voices were coming. Peering around the corner near the stairs leading below deck, he spotted Pintel and Ragetti sitting on the deck with rum bottles in their hands and rather vexed facial expression.

"But it is our fault", said Ragetti quietly, after a moment of silent consideration. Pintel groaned menacingly, and elbowed Ragetti, shooting him a sharp look. "Sort of", amended Ragetti.

"Not our fault at all", whispered Pintel angrily through his gritted teeth. "We were t'put 'im in the brig an' we did, an' not lockin' the brig was not our fault 'cause why we'd 'ave had t'lock it? Dead people ain't normally likely t'run away, are they?", he concluded grimly. Ragetti sighed. "Dead people are deadly unlikely t'run away", said Pintel, a small smile appearing on his face, as he elbowed Ragetti to make him look at him. "Deadly unlikely", he repeated with a chuckle. Ragetti blinked cluelessly. Pintel rolled his eyes. "Dead people deadly unlikely?", he hinted once again with slight impatience. Ragetti thought about it for a moment, before smiling understandingly.

"Dead deadly", he muttered, chuckling.

Pintel shook his head, apparently delighted with his own joke. He lifted the rum bottle to his lips, but then Ragetti spoke again:

"But... If 'e did run away it means that 'e ain't dead", he reasoned under his breath.

Pintel lowered his rum bottle, and sighed with exasperation. "That's the entire problem", he hissed.

"So we'd better tell the Cap'n", suggested Ragetti supposedly not for the first time during the discussion, because his remark caused Pintel to glare at him with utmost hatred.

* * *

Elizabeth sat up in the bed with a gasp. The abrupt, sudden movement woke up Jack almost immediately, and he quickly pulled Elizabeth into his arms. She was trembling. 

"What is it, Lizzie?", he asked anxiously, cupping the side of her face with his hand.

She looked at him, her breathing still ragged, and even in the cabin as dimly lit as it was he could see that she was very pale.

"Nothing", she muttered at last, forcing a weak smile. "Just a... bad dream", she said trying to sound more lighthearted than she actually felt.

She was never scared of nightmares. After all, they were not real, and she knew better than to be afraid of something illusory. But there was something frightening about that particular dream. As if she had had it before. And as if... it was more than just a dream.

Jack motioned her head to rest on his shoulder, and wrapped his arms around her protectively. "What it was about, luv?", he asked after a moment of silence.

"I don't", she paused, something odd flashing across her mind, "remember", she said quietly, the realization sending cold shivers up her spine, even though it was not unusual not to remember a dream after having woken up. Countless times, on countless mornings she had not remembered last night's dreams. It was something perfectly normal, and natural, and yet...

"What would have happened if we haven't met in Tortuga, Jack?", she asked quietly, closing her eyes, and slowly calming down under his soothing touch. Jack took a deep breath, about to reply, but she continued. "Or... what would have happened if I would have had that accident, but you would not have been there... with me."

"Must've been a really bad dream if it made ye think of such things, luv", he said half-jokingly, but there was also a trace of seriousness in his voice.

Elizabeth smiled faintly, nestling her head in the crook of Jack's neck. "I don't know, I just... I just thought that I might have never got my memory back if... if you were not there, I might have become a totally different person, don't you think? If I would have been all alone, just on my own..."

"Lizzie", Jack kissed her hair, and rested his head on the top of hers. "Ye wouldn't have become somebody else. You were always yourself, even when you didn't remember who you were. Somewhere in your heart, in your mind, all the memories were safely stored, hidden, asleep... But in a way you never forgot anything. You didn't forget me, I dare say, 'cause why else you would have been trying to kiss me all the time."

Elizabeth listened to Jack intently, smiling slightly, but then her eyes snapped open at his last remark, and she lifted her head from his shoulder, to look at him. Jack glanced at her, a poorly concealed smirk tugging on his lips. Elizabeth smiled brightly, and hit him playfully on the shoulder.

"I have not been trying to kiss you all the time, you arrogant... pirate!", she exclaimed with mock-indignation. "You have!", she added challengingly.

"Me?", Jack pointed to himself, putting on a hurt look. "How is that, luv? Was it me who fell on the top of you from the bed on the very first morning after we'd just met for the _first _time?", he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, and held back a smile. "It was accidental", she remarked drily.

"Oh", Jack tilted his head backwards. "Should I remind ye, luv, who kissed me _first_, who came to me cabin _first_, who-" He trailed off when Elizabeth pressed her lips against his, and kissed him ardently. Jack groaned, and deepened the kiss, pushing Elizabeth onto her back.

"It was me... who seduced you... then?... Is that... the point you're making?", she asked breathlessly, reluctantly breaking the kiss.

"Aye. That'd be me point", grinned Jack, slowly placing his hands over her breasts, watching her face intently, and noticing with relief, and not without satisfaction, that she was not at all pale anymore.

Elizabeth threw her head against the pillow, and gasped. "Sometimes... I feel like... none of it has ever... has ever happened", she whispered, fighting for air which he was stealing from her with his fingers and his lips.

"What do ye mean, luv?", he asked huskily, trapping her lips in between his for a moment yet, before sliding his lips down her face, leaving a hot trail of kisses along her jawline and her neck, before reaching her breasts.

"Jack...", she whimpered, squirming underneath him, his hands placed firmly on her hips steadying her.

"Go on, luv", he whispered, smiling roguishly against the soft skin of her belly.

"It's just... every time we kiss, or... it's like... it's like... the first time... like it did not... Ja!-ck... happen before... Jack... like... there never would be... Jack... enough... of it... Jack", she whispered weakly, the heat coursing through her body reaching her mind and clearing it from all sensible thoughts for a moment, red flashes of light under her closed eyelids blinding her, and she felt as if she was falling into the abyss of light, as if she was the light itself, weightless and free and beautiful.

She lay almost motionlessly, trying to regain control of her thoughts and her breathing. She did not even feel strong enough to utter a coherent sentence and ask him what it was that he had just done to her...

"I know what ye mean, luv", Jack's low voice hummed near to her ear, when he at last gently gathered her almost completely limp form into his arms, and draped the blanket over them. Elizabeth mumbled something against his chest. "I guess ye're a tad bit drowsy now, luv", said Jack with a chuckle, but to his surprise, after a moment of silence, her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at him with clear, conscious, ardent intensity.

"Well, you guessed wrong", she whispered smugly, pressing her lips against his.

He slid his arms around her, his open palms smoothing over her glabrous skin.

"I don't mind being wrong", whispered Jack hovering over her. "This time", he added with a smirk, leaning down, and brushing his lips against hers.

"I absolutely love you", said Elizabeth quietly, gliding her hands across Jack's chest and shoulders.

He chuckled and looked at her with a glimpse of amusement in his dark eyes. "Ye've got to stop sayin' all of that, luv, or else I'll be so spoiled that ye won't be able to cope with me."

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side and smiled. "I think you're quite spoiled already", she whispered smilingly.

"Aye", Jack kissed her on the lips and smiled thoughtfully. "But I think you are not spoiled enough, luv", he whispered, running his fingers through her hair.

Elizabeth was about to ask what he had meant, but then he silenced her with a kiss. She kissed him back, feeling strangely sad all of a sudden, as if it was all just too beautiful to be really happening. _But it is really happening_, she thought, smiling inwardly.

Jack broke the kiss, and looked at her with those enigmatic eyes of his, which, she was sure of that, could read her soul. "Lizzie...", he said in a barely audible whisper, caressing her face with his fingertips.

Elizabeth smiled. "You didn't say that you love me back", she whispered coyly, leaning into his touch. Jack smiled at her, and looked at her for a moment in silence, and she was about to mock-complain about his _hesitation_, when he leaned down, and whispered:"'Doubt thou the stars are fire'", Elizabeth blinked, and he kissed her softly on the lips. "'Doubt that the sun doth move'", she bit her lip, and closed her eyes, as he placed feathery-light kisses along the side of her face. "'Doubt truth to be a liar'", he kissed her eyelids, and she opened her eyes to meet his ardent gaze. "'But never doubt I love.'"

Elizabeth smiled, and he crushed his lips on hers, taking her away from the transient reality around them, and for the moments that in his arms seemed as endless as the eternity itself, she was soaring above the sea, above the world, above everything, holding on to him as he carried them through the storm and the fire and the waterfalls that were overtaking her mind, until the only thought that was left was his name on her lips, a scream, a whisper; the only truth.

* * *

Will stood motionlessly in the same spot, long after Pintel and Ragetti had walked away without coming to any significant conclusion. 

His head hurt, and it seemed as if every thought was making him feel even worse, the nagging pain radiating from his head and overwhelming his entire being. For a moment he doubted that it was really just an ordinary headache. Perhaps it was his subconscious self trying to stop him... Or was it fear? Or uncertainty.

How was it possible... His father and Gibbs had told him what had happened, and it was more than astonishing that a man after having been shot three or four times would not have died. Yet...

Will looked around, and sighed. So Barbossa must be somewhere on the _Black Pearl_; hiding, waiting... for what? Would he plan on doing something or would he rather hide until they sailed back and made port, and then... Whatever his plans were, it was only yet another (another?... Were there really so many of them?...) reason to take Elizabeth away from _this _ship. It was simply not safe.

If only he could find the way to talk to her... Now, that he at least had a vague idea how to carry out his hazy plan...

* * *

Elizabeth could not sleep. She felt a bit tired (she chuckled inwardly), but not tired enough to sleep, apparently. She opened her eyes, and cautiously drew her hand across Jack's sleeping face. He looked so _quiet _when he was asleep, almost vulnerable. And sweet. She suppressed the urge to kiss him, not wishing to wake him up _again_. They still had a long journey before them. 

For a moment, she sank into the enthralling thoughts about the future, about their future _together_. There were no definite plans apart from the wedding celebration in Tortuga (which idea she was not sure she liked. She yet forgot to _mention _to him, in case he was not aware of the fact already, that if he would do as much as _look _at another woman, he could ready himself to go back to the Locker immediately.

She smiled to herself, but then thought that perhaps that joke was not so very funny, after all... She would think about something better to say, yet.

"I love you, Jack", she mouthed the words, and smiled, looking at Jack, taking in every detail of his face.

She thought about what he had told her. About never forgetting anything... It was true. It must have been true. Somewhere in her heart she had always loved him, and that was why she had so quickly fallen in love with him _again_.

She was so blind for such a long time, denying herself, denying him the truth, a simple confession that could have brought them together earlier, and perhaps helped to avoid much suffering...

But it did not matter now. Now they were together, _together _in every possible sense of the word. And it was beautiful. It was beautiful to be near him, to feel his presence in each and every moment, to be able to see him all the time, kiss him when she pleased, wrap her arms around him and feel loved, and safe, and happy, and complete.

Elizabeth shifted and closed her eyes. Why could she not sleep? Maybe it was too humid in the cabin, or maybe she was thinking too much. She sighed quietly, took one of Jack's dreadlocks in her hand, and kissed it. It felt funny against her mouth, and she smiled. Then she sighed again. If she kept fidgeting and tossing and tugging on his hair she would surely wake him up, and then on the next day he would be tired.

Noiselessly, she slipped out of his embrace and off the bed, tiptoed towards the door, and opened them quietly. But before she walked out, she glanced at Jack over her shoulder, and snorting at herself inwardly, she quickly climbed onto the bed once again, crawled to him, and kissed him on the mouth. Luckily, he did not wake up. So she kissed him softly once again, and then slid out of the bed, and left the bedroom, cautiously closing the door behind her.

She walked over to the trunks that still stood in the main cabin, and pulled a white nightgown out of one of them. Having put that on, she wore a pair of dark green shoes, and then looked around the cabin, smiling when she spotted Jack's coat.

Staggering to her feet, she grabbed the coat, put it on, fastened it, and was about to go, but then, before heading for the door, she slumped into Jack's chair, and opened his desk's drawer. Grinning childishly, she took out their marriage papers, unfurled them, and read them.

If somebody had told her back then, when she was a little girl fascinated with pirate stories, that one day she will be married to Captain Jack Sparrow, she would laughed out loud at that seemingly insane person who would have suggested such thing.

"Elizabeth Sparrow", she whispered smilingly, folding the document, and putting it back into the drawer. "Mrs. Captain Elizabeth Sparrow." Grinning, Elizabeth rose to her feet, and went out of the Captain's Quarters to get some fresh air which could hopefully help her fall asleep.

As she closed the door behind her she already missed the warmth of Jack's body next to hers.

"_Just a quick walk around the deck"_, she thought laughing at her own silliness and at the thought that she was, in fact, very much looking forward to their eventful honeymoon in their cabin.

In _their _cabin, on _their _ship.

Elizabeth giggled to herself, swiftly walking up the stairs.

* * *

The air was strange, neither warm, nor cold, and to her surprise Elizabeth did not feel refreshed, but instead her head began to hurt. Upset with the headache, she abandoned the idea of walking around the deck as soon as she reached it. With a sigh, she turned around, and walked back towards the stairs, thinking cheerfully of snuggling against her husband- 

"Elizabeth?"

The voice stopped her, and she spun around, baffled. She squinted in the semi-darkness, noticing a person approaching.

"Will?", she asked with disbelief when he came closer. "What are you doing here?"

"Elizabeth", she smiled weakly, and she had an impression that he was strangely nervous.

And he was, indeed, nervous, hardly keeping his voice from quivering at the sight of her, so unexpected, so hopelessly desired...

He had walked around the _Black Pearl _purposelessly for what seemed to him a very long time, wondering how would he have ever managed to talk to her... And then all of a sudden she had come. She had come by herself. _A miracle_, he thought guiltily. _Fate?..._

"What are you doing here?", repeated Elizabeth a bit more sternly, watching him suspiciously.

"I..." started Will not really knowing what to say, not knowing _how _to say it. "I just... I just wanted to... I don't know", he averted his eyes for a moment.

Elizabeth hugged herself, suddenly feeling cold. "I think you should go get some rest. We are setting sail soon", she observed insouciantly.

"Yes", he agreed in an oddly hurried tone of voice.

"Good night, then", she replied blankly, and turned around.

"Elizabeth", he called her once again, and she once again turned to face him. A glimpse of impatience flickering in her eyes.

A quiet voice in his mind told him to stop, to go away, to give up... _She doesn't love me... not anymore..._

But there was also another voice, whispering promises into his exhausted mind, and that voice was enticing, captivating; and this voice... was louder.

"I have something for you", said Will plainly, extending his hand towards her.

"What is it?", asked Elizabeth with mild, polite interest, glancing at the bracelet that lay in Will's open palm.

"Just a... present, a gift", he explained under his breath, almost choking on the words. "It's nothing, really", he said with a faint smile, but Elizabeth did not smile back. "I just wanted you to have it... It's a... good-bye present."

He looked at her expectantly, and she looked at him, her face expressionless. "It's not necessary", she said after a pause, and he felt cold shivers running up his spine at the hint of coldness in her voice.

"Please", he whispered. "Just an insignificant gift to remember me by..." He looked at her with a glimpse of something that she read as hopelessness visible in his eyes.

But it was not hopelessness. It was fear. _What if she will not accept it?... _His mind went blank for a moment.

Elizabeth glanced at the simple, gold bracelet, and then back at Will. Maybe he really meant it... Maybe it was his way to apologize... After all she surely had more reasons to apologize than he... And yet it was him who was trying to apologize, make peace... perhaps. It could not hurt to accept an insignificant, as he had said it, gift.

"Thank you", she said unsmilingly, reaching for the bracelet, but he slightly withdrew his hand.

"Let me", he said, opening the bracelet's lock, his eyes meeting hers, and there was something in his gaze that she could not quite place. Regret? Guilt? Sadness?

_His way to apologize... _Elizabeth sighed. Jack will not like it one bit, she was sure of that. But she could take the bracelet off as soon as she went back below deck.

"Alright", she said, reluctantly lifting her hand, and when Will's hand brushed against hers, she felt that it was unusually cold, and that it was shaking. She was about to ask him whether he felt alright, but then he placed the bracelet around her wrist, and the little lock closed, and... disappeared, melting into the metal. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she looked up at Will with anxiety flashing in her eyes, but before she managed to demand an explanation, suddenly she felt the world around her falling apart, the colours fading, the shapes becoming amorphous, and her eyes fluttered shut, her mind blackening.

And she was falling into the abyss once again tonight. Only this time it was not an abyss made of light, by it was a terrifying darkness dragging her away from her own thoughts, her own heart, away from herself.

She wanted to scream Jack's name, but then the name also melted into the darkness around her, and she was falling, only falling, still falling, until the cold, soundless darkness overtook her, and suddenly, the world was gone.


	67. Chapter 67

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 67**

"_Lizzie?" Jack could make out her figure standing at the bow of a ship in the mist. "Lizzie?", he called again, coming closer. She must have heard him, but she did not turn around. "Lizzie", he repeated for the third time, slightly baffled. He put his hand on her shoulder, and she shivered, and spun around. "Lizzie", he smiled, but his smile faded as she just stood motionlessly looking at him with no expression, no emotion in her eyes. "Liz-", her name froze on his lips, when, to his bewilderment, she calmly removed his hand from her shoulder, averted her eyes, and slowly walked away._

Jack woke up abruptly, in the grim mood and with a headache. The cabin was almost completely dark, and he did not know for how long he had slept. It was impossible to tell whether it was a night or a day, and he really wished they could set sail as soon as possible. Even though he felt strangely exhausted.

He let his eyelids fall over his eyes once again, but his outstretched hand searched blindly for the comforting presence beside him...

But he could not feel anything else but the pillow and the bed sheets, so he opened his eyes, and propping himself on an elbow looked at the other side of the bed...

which was empty.

* * *

_What have I done?..._

Will knelt on the wooden deck, holding unconscious Elizabeth in his arms, and looking at her with dismay. He could not do anything else but stare at her, he could hardly think. His own actions, his own decisions paralyzed him, and he froze in some strange stupor, just staring at her, and trying to understand what had happened; trying to imagine what was he going to do now.

He had given her the bracelet. It had been done. He had done it. He had succeeded. Succeeded... The word felt bitter in his mouth, even thought he had not even said it out loud... He had just thought that... But even his thoughts seemed loud to him... As if everybody could hear them, decipher his intentions, find out about his plans...

His plans. What plans? He almost could not remember them... Almost.

He looked down at Elizabeth's face, the look, the last look that she had given him before she had passed out, the look of unconscious comprehension, accusation, dismay. How could he have done that to her? How could he... and... how could he not?...

Would she understand?...

It could be the new beginning... their new beginning... their new chance...

If she could have fallen in love with Jack as a stranger, why couldn't she fall in love with him? With him whom she had known since they were twelve years old, whom she had wanted to marry, whom she _had _married... in a way...

He blinked, taken aback by that new aspect of his reasoning. Was it really his underlying hope? That he could accomplish what Jack had accomplished? Having her mind cleared from all the memories, make her fall in love with him... anew...

"'Lizbeth?"

Will cringed, and looked up towards the stairs from where the voice was coming. He gasped, terrified, and darted his eyes back to Elizabeth. What was he going to do? What was he going to do...

* * *

Jack climbed up the stairs, snorting to himself slightly. The simple fact of not finding Elizabeth in his bed when he had woken up (which was also, incidentally, the most unthinkable thing ever just a few weeks ago yet) seemed to upset him to the point at which he seemed quite ridiculous even to himself. Not to mention her. She will surely laugh at him about that when he finds her.

When he finds her... He had already checked the galley, her former cabin, and even the rum cellar, but she was not there. So she must have been somewhere on the deck, enjoying the dazzling view of the Fountain of Youth and the cool air. She had taken his coat, which he had noticed with a smirk. He liked her to wear his clothes, for some reason. He liked thinking about her as _his_ 'Lizbeth, _his_ Lizzie, _his_ _wife_ in his clothes in his cabin, on his ship- He paused in his possessive thoughts. Well. In _their_ cabin, and on _their_ ship. Maybe even in _their _coat, considering that married people share everything, don't they?

He smiled, and called her name once again upon reaching the deck, hearing some movement-

He froze.

"'Lizbeth", he gasped, and rushed to her. She was lying on the deck, unconscious, apparently. "'Lizzie, what-"

He fell down, before he managed to reach her. The enormous pain in his head was the only sensation that he felt for a brief moment before his surroundings blurred and vanished, leaving him in the darkness.

Will dropped his pistol to the deck, his hands dry and cold, and trembling. He stared at Jack for a moment in bewilderment wondering, not for the first time tonight, what had just happened. And even though it was also not the first time that he had not knocked him unconscious, it still felt odd and despicable in those particular circumstances...

Swallowing, he squatted down, and rolled Jack over to see his face and make sure that he had really lost consciousness, and was not just pretending.

But he was not pretending. Will drew back suddenly, and looked at his hands feeling a strange substance under his fingertips. He brought his hands to his face, and his eyes widened at the sight. Blood. It was blood. He had blood on his hands. He looked back at Jack in apprehension, and turned his head to check whether he was hurt... Which he was, obviously. He was bleeding. Had he hit him that hard with the pistol? He must have had...

Staggering to his feet abruptly, Will stared in dismay at the two bodies lying on the deck, wishing, for a moment, that it was only a bad dream. He did not want to kill anybody, and he still hoped that the injury was not serious and that Jack would not die. He did not want to kill him... He did not want to kill anybody... He just wanted a life, his life, the life that he had dreamt of...

And suddenly it all seemed so grim to him. His dreams and wishes. He put his head in his hands, and breathed heavily.

Then, he quickly fell to his knees, and checked Jack's pulse. It was there. And he was breathing. He was alive. At least that. So he was not a murderer.

Or was he?...

Hurriedly, he rushed to Elizabeth and gently picked her up from the deck, making sure that her head rested comfortably on his shoulder. Her breathing was shallow, and he could feel it only when he put his face very close to hers. Her eyelids were not moving, she seemed to be fast asleep. And she looked so peaceful, so beautiful, so innocent...

It was all his fault, it was all Jack's fault, everything that had ever happened to them, from the very beginning, and now, especially now. He had ruthlessly destroyed everything, their lives, their happiness, his happiness, his dreams...

His wishes.

And Elizabeth... Elizabeth was not guilty any of that. Jack had manipulated her, stalked her, deceived her, confused her, and she had not known what she was doing...

Not that he knew too well what he was doing right now...

Taking a last, quick look at Jack over his shoulder, he carried Elizabeth to the side of the ship. Holding her close in a strong embrace with his one hand, he reached for the rope with his other hand, and soon they were back on the _Flying Dutchman_.

He looked around, making sure that nobody was around to see them, and then, very cautiously he made his way below deck.

His heart was racing, and he wondered briefly how was it even possible that he had managed to do that much... Give Elizabeth the bracelet... Knocked Jack unconscious... And carry her to the _Dutchman_ without being seen... He had the impression that he was not doing any of that, that it was somehow happening, but he had nothing to do with it... That it was only a dream, a very weird dream, and then he would wake up... Wake up...

Wake up to what?

So maybe after all he did not want it to be only a dream...

Will opened the door to one of the cabins, and closed them noiselessly behind them. He could not put Elizabeth in the Captain's Quarters. They were not his quarters anymore, and apart from that, his father was sleeping there right now.

Placing Elizabeth gently on the bed, Will sat on the edge, and took a deep breath, half-believing that she was really here, with him, right now. He ran his hand across her face, but quickly withdrew it with apprehension. Somewhere in the back of his mind he feared that she may open her eyes any moment, and...

She would never forgive him. If she ever found out... If somehow she ever regained her memory, she would never forgive him for kidnapping her...

Will blinked, astonished. Was it how Jack had felt? Had he had the same thoughts? Probably not. Probably he had not care. Or had he?... That conversation that they had some time ago... He had seemed to car-

Will huffed angrily. Now that he had done it, there was no turning back, and it was the worst moment to think whether he had done the right thing. Right or not he had done it. The cards had been dealt. And he had to look toward the future, and future only. The past was over.

He looked at Elizabeth, and tucked some strands of her hair behind her ears. He was not Jack. He will not lie to her, he will tell her who she was, he will tell her everything-

Hesitantly, he drew back his hand and sighed. Will he? How could he tell her _everything _if he could not tell her about _that_?

So maybe not everything, but most of it, most of the truth... No. The whole truth. Only the truth. Maybe just... not everything. Maybe... He will just make sure that what he will be telling her will be the truth, and nothing else. He may...leave some fragments out, some details... He will tell her everything just omitting certain aspects of the past...

Like Jack Sparrow.

He will _omit_ him when telling her about the past. It will not be lying, just... omitting. He was not Jack. He did not want to deceive her, to lie to her, to win her heart in a vicious, unfair way. He will be honest, completely honest and sincere...

...apart from not telling her that he was responsible for her memory loss in the first place...

But was 'not telling' equal to 'lying'? He had thought that it was not, but now he was not sure...

He sighed, and looked around the cabin absent-mindedly, suddenly having the impression that _he _had forgotten about something.

Oh yes. He did forget. It was not over yet. Elizabeth was on the _Flying Dutchman_, but he had to make sure yet that nobody will know what had really happened. Jack had not seen who had knocked him down, so now he just had to carry out his plan... till the end.

He reluctantly got up, looked at Elizabeth, and tried to smile, but somehow he could not smile... at least not yet. He left the cabin, locking the door with the key. He pocketed the key and headed back to the _Black Pearl_.

* * *

"Help! Somebody help me!"

The screaming reverberated in the empty space, in the semi-darkness, tearing the silence apart mercilessly, harshly, abruptly.

Gibbs fell down from his bunk in an effort to get up quickly. "Angels an' demons, what's goin' on?", he muttered searching blindly for his boots, and running on the deck, along with everybody else.

When he reached the main deck, several crew members were already gathered there. Two of them was lifting a body from the deck, and when Gibbs approach them, he noticed that it was Jack, dead or alive he could not tell.

"Lord, what is it?", he exclaimed in dismay.

"Barbossa", was the answer, and everybody darted his eyes to the person who had said it, to Will.

"Barbossa?", Gibbs shot Will a bewildered look. "But he's...", he trailed off, and looked back at Jack.

"He is alive", announced Marty, after checking Jack's pulse.

"Barbossa?", somebody asked.

Marty shook his head. "Captain's alive!", he said impatiently. Gibbs sighed with relief.

"Barbossa is alive as well", cut in Will.

"Ye saw 'im?", asked Gibbs, and all eyes were once again fixed on Will, who nodded mutely. "How is that...", started Gibbs, but broke off, and approached Pintel and Ragetti spotting them in the crowd. "The brig. Ye were to put 'im in the brig."

"We did", answered Pintel with a look of guilt and dismay on his face. "We did", he elbowed Ragetti to make him say something.

"Aye, we did, only...", he swallowed.

"Only what?", snapped Gibbs.

"Only we did not lock it...", finished Ragetti in a whisper, dropping his gaze to the deck.

"We thought 'e was dead!", exclaimed Pintel defensively, but Gibbs was not listening to them anymore.

"Take Jack below", he ordered the two men that had already picked Jack up from the deck, "an'-"

"Where is Elizabeth?", broke in Will in a metallic voice, almost surprised that he was able to say it at all. His mouth was dry, and his throat tightened.

"Below deck, I reckon", replied Gibbs, his voice falling as much as his facial expression.

"I'll go check on her", said Will, and Gibbs nodded grimly, hoping that the dark scenarios that his imagination began to produce were soon to prove false.

* * *

Will ran into the Captain's Quarters, followed by the men carrying Jack. He wanted to get there before them to have a one moment for calming down, for catching his breath, and slowing down the frantic pace at which his thoughts were rushing through his mind.

So far everything was working well. As well as possible... Still better than he had hoped. Barbossa's not being dead (apparently) had helped him greatly, although the thought of Barbossa being alive, being somewhere around was quite disturbing.

And yet, the most difficult part was still to come...

Will pretended to check the Captain's Quarters, and then stormed into the corridor, running into the crew members who were just carrying Jack inside. Telling him quickly that Elizabeth was missing, he ran past them, in search of her, presumably.

He directed his steps to the brig, wanting to check for himself that Barbossa really was not there. Maybe he had only managed to crawl from the cell, and then he had died just a few feet away in the dark corner, Pintel and Ragetti being just to careless to notice. That would ruin his plan.

But, to his relief mixed with fear, Barbossa was not there. Neither dead nor alive. He must have been hiding somewhere else, but where? Will had hoped that they will manage to find Barbossa (which seemed inevitable since he had nowhere to run). He only needed a little more time... A little more time to sail away with Elizabeth... And then they could find Barbossa, and even if he would deny doing any of the actions that Will had planned to place the blame for on, there was still a chance that they would not believe him, and therefore never ever discover what really happened...

Will wandered around the brig and the rum cellar for some time, and then surreptitiously swung back to the _Flying Dutchman_ and waited.

He sat down on the steps leading below deck, and waited for the time to pass, trying to imagine how long it would take him, if he would really be doing what he had planned to tell Gibbs and others that he was doing...

And he hoped that Jack was still unconscious. He preferred not to be the one to tell him... Even though the guilt was going to be put on Barbossa, he was afraid that something in his face, something in his eyes would give him away, and Jack would notice the glimpse of dishonesty in his eyes, the trace of deception in his voice... He hoped that when Jack wakes up he and Elizabeth will be already far away...

* * *

"Search the ship! Every cabin, every corner, every- Will!", Gibbs left the crew members who quickly dispersed in all directions in order to look for Barbossa, and approached Will quickly. "Where were ye? We-", he broke off, rendered silent by the look in Will's eyes. "Did ye find Elizabeth?", he asked in a low voice, not liking Will's facial expression at all.

"Yes", answered Will in a hollow tone of voice, after a moment of silence.

He tried to imagine that it was the truth that he was telling, although even without that he probably would not have had much trouble with making his voice sound sufficiently grim and hollow, and his face pale... He was pale from the very realization that was flooding over him from time to time that he was doing something horrible...

If fighting for one's happiness could be a horrible thing to do...

_Of course it could... Of course..._

"Where is she?", asked Gibbs with slight impatient, feeling sufficiently distressed by Jack being injured and unconscious and Barbossa hiding somewhere on the ship. He had had enough of bad news to hear. Or tell, for that matter...

"She is... on the _Flying Dutchman_...", said Will slowly, averting his eyes for a moment. His head was spinning.

"_How far are you willing to go..."_

_...to have her..._

"On the-", started Gibbs, but trailed off, his eyes widening.

"I found her", said Will quietly, his voice barely audible, not much louder than the humming of the black waves which were softly brushing against the sides of the ship.

Gibbs stared at Will expectantly, already sensing that something was wrong; something was very wrong, and he half-wanted to immediately know what was wrong, and half-wanted not to ever know that.

Will looked past Gibbs, his unseeing eyes fixed on some indefinite point in the distance.

It was the last stage, the last few sentences, a few more minutes, and if he will calmly carry out his plan, it will be over, and he will be free, he will be free to sail away and start a new life.

With Elizabeth.

He shifted his eyes to Gibbs, and in a voice that faltered involuntarily, but how appropriately, he said quietly:

"She is dead."


	68. Chapter 68

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the great reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 68**

"Good Lord..." Gibbs mouthed the words rather than said them. He stared past Will into the dark horizon, trying to comprehend what had happened in the course of past hour. Just one hour!... But it was just too incomprehensible.

Elizabeth was dead. Killed by Barbossa. He could hardly believe it was really true, yet Will's pale face which looked at the moment more like the unmoving mask of a ghost than the face of a living human being was the best proof of that... The boy was clearly shocked, too shocked to even cry or scream.

Gibbs and Will stood in heavy silence for a longer while.

Will stared at the deck, wishing to get away from the _Black Pearl _as soon as possible. Yet, he knew that he could not just turn around and run, no matter how much he wished to do just that. But he needed more time to make it all believable, convincing, true...

True... He had made the oath to himself that he would not lie...

That he will not lie... to Elizabeth. And it was not Elizabeth. It were the people that he had to convince that she was dead, so they would never ever look for her.

_But it was still a lie..._

But that kind of lie did not count!... He snorted at himself weakly.

"I think...", started Gibbs uncertainly, when he was at last able to get away from his thoughts for a moment, and speak out loud. "I think that he'd like to see 'er... when he regains consciousness, that is..."

He did not even tried to imagine how was he going to break the news to Jack. And what will Jack's reaction be... But he thought, that above all, Jack would like to see his wife for one last time before the _Flying Dutchman _will carry her soul away to the other world...

"I don't think it is a good idea", answered Will hollowly, his hands rolling into fists, which did not escape Gibbs' notice.

...which was the main purpose of it.

"Why?", asked Gibbs hesitantly.

"I took her on the _Flying Dutchman_ already... I just... didn't want anybody to see her", he trailed off, and closed his eyes, for a moment considering abandoning all of that and admitting the truth. He felt heavy, his heart and his mind felt so unbearably heavy, that he felt almost unable to speak... unable to continue...

"_Will you marry me?"_

... but he continued nonetheless. "She... I wouldn't have recognized her if I didn't know that it was her...", he whispered, and looked at Gibbs with his eyes narrowed from exhaustion, as if every word that he spoke caused him physical pain. Which it did. It really did.

And he hated himself. He hated himself now, yet, already... He hated what he was doing.

And yet, he would have hated it more if he had not done it.

Gibbs stared at Will wide-eyed, with an expression of absolute dismay on his face. He swallowed. "Mutilated", he whispered, searching Will's face for an answer, which seemed tragically obvious.

Will closed his eyes, and nodded.

* * *

He did not dream. When he opened his eyes, he had no memory of any dreams from last night. If it was a night... If now it was a day... If... there was such a thing like dreams...

Suddenly, he leaped to the sitting position remembering what had happened. He looked around finding himself in his cabin.

_Lizzie_.

The image of her lying on the deck sprung to his mind, dread washing over him, as he angrily threw the bed covers away, and storming out of his bedroom, ran into Ragetti.

"What are ye doin' here?", asked Jack, looking him up and down, surprised to see him in his quarters all of a sudden.

Ragetti blinked nervously, not sure of an answer that he was ought to give. It had been his shift to watch the Captain who had been unconscious for several hours.

"I-", started Ragetti tentatively.

"Where is Elizabeth?", broke in Jack, looking around the cabin, millions of thoughts running through his mind. Perhaps they had found him and Elizabeth on deck, and for some reason they had decided to put Elizabeth in her former cabin. Or perhaps she was alright, having regained her consciousness before he had... But... Why had he lost his consciousness in the first place? And why had she? He remembered the pain... Somebody must have hit him with something-

His train of thought, and Ragetti's desperate inner search for an answer were both interrupted by Gibbs who entered the cabin, but then took an instinctive step backwards, astonished by the sight of Jack being awake. Oddly, senselessly he had hoped that it would take him longer to regain consciousness... which would have given him more time to think of the way to tell him...

Jack looked at Gibbs, and as soon as he caught that unmistakable glimpse of panic in his first mate's eyes he knew that something was wrong. "Where is Elizabeth?", he repeated, his lips hardly moving as he spoke. He stared at Gibbs intently, almost angrily, hating the silence, hating the sound of silence when he had just asked a question, a very simple question, and he was just waiting for a simple, a very simple answer to a very simple question.

Gibbs sighed, rubbed his sweating forehead, and then waved his hand at Ragetti giving him a sign to leave them alone. Ragetti almost ran to the door, indescribably relieved not to be in the cabin during the inevitable conversation that was about to take place.

"Master Gibbs", said Jack in an almost threatening tone of voice when the door slammed shut after Ragetti.

"Jack...", Gibbs swallowed, wishing to go on, but the words caught in his throat, and he stopped, procrastinating involuntarily.

Jack took a few steps towards Gibbs. "What's goin' on?", asked Jack in an oddly calmer, or rather weaker tone of voice, studying Gibbs' face intensely.

Gibbs took a deep breath, forcing himself to look Jack in the eyes. "Jack...", he tried again. "Listen-"

"I am listenin'", cut in Jack. "But seein' that ye've some troubles with expressin' yerself I think I'll just go an' find my wife myself", he said sternly, and attempted to walk past Gibbs.

"Jack, wait", Gibbs took a few steps backwards, blocking the door without even thinking about it. "she's not here..."

Jack shot him an impatient look, wrinkled his forehead in angry confusion, which quickly turned into cold anxiety. And he was about to push Gibbs aside, and walk out, when Gibbs finally managed to blurt out what he was trying to say, frustration and compassion visible on his pale, pained face, and audible in his barely audible voice:

"Jack, Elizabeth... Elizabeth is dead..."

* * *

Will stood at the helm of the _Flying Dutchman_, clutching the spokes as hard as he could. But no matter how hard he held the wheel, he could not stop his hands from shaking. They were cold, and they were shaking, and he could not stop thinking that they were cold and shaking. Cold and shaking... The words reverberated in his head, gradually becoming meaningless.

He had set sail without waking his father. He still did not know how he was going to tell him (whatever it was that he was going to tell him...). _If_ he was going to tell him... anything. But it seemed inevitable, since there was no way of leaving the ship with Elizabeth without Bill Turner seeing it once he wound wake up. And sooner or later he was going to wake up, and question why they had set sail, why the _Black Pearl _was not before or behind them, and at last what was Elizabeth – unconscious Elizabeth – doing aboard?

And he did not have answers to all of these questions. Yet. But he had to come up with something. Everything was going so well.

So... well...

Gibbs had eventually agreed with him that the sight of mutilated Elizabeth would have been much worse for Jack than the plain fact of her death... As notplain as it was...

Will stared into the darkness wondering how he had ever come up with such a scheme... He could not remember. His thoughts and memories, his dreams and hopes, his beliefs and ideas were all tangled, all mixed, a colorless blend that he could neither analyze, nor grasp. He clenched his fists around the spokes until he felt numb pain in his hands. But the pain was also blurred, and indefinite...

Cold and shaking and indefinite...

As indefinite as his actions... His actions... He could hardly remember... He could not remember. What was he doing? Why? How? What for?

Why not...

Why not? It was not right...

He shook his head, as if somebody had actually spoken the words out loud.

Was it really that bad? He just wanted to have a chance... And he wanted her to be happy... Most of all, he wanted her...

To be happy.

He ran his hand across his face. He was cold, yet he was sweating. Or perhaps it was just the seawater... the drops of seawater... cold and shaking...

They needed to make port quickly. The drought flag was drying out... But they had to get through that dark ocean. He had heard form the _Black Pearl_'screw about the necessity to close his eyes... And then he could see, with his eyes closed... With his eyes closed he could see through the darkness... He would have never thought of that...

Maybe... With her memory _closed_ Elizabeth could see the truth, could see the truthfulness of his love... And that they could be truly happy together...

He closed his eyes, and steered the ship across the murky, eerily quiet waters, hoping that there will be no storm on their way back.

On their way back to their lives before Jack Sparrow had come and destroyed it all.

Will tightened his grip on the wheel, and gritted his teeth, an image involuntarily springing up to his mind...

Elizabeth... in _his_ shirt, in_ his _cabin; flushed, smiling, talking in a sweet voice. Smiling...

...until she had noticed him standing there.

Will gasped. It didn't matter... It was over now. Now they were going to start anew.

As if _that _part of her life had never existed.

As if Jack Sparrow had never existed.

* * *

Jack stared at Gibbs in perfect silence for a longer while, his face perfectly still and calm. Blank. Expressionless.

Denying.

And then all of a sudden he snorted, a smile tugging on his lips, and Gibbs blinked, stupefied, watching his captain with anxious astonishment.

"Now. That was _not_ funny", stated Jack in a voice that sounded quite ordinary, if it was not for a hint, a very faint hint of something odd in it. He waved his hand at Gibbs in mock-scolding gesture, and spun around. "Lizzie, come out", he called in no particular direction, looking around the cabin.

Gibbs paled even more, and swallowed. "Jack...", he started cautiously, the humidity in the cabin suddenly reaching the point at which it was nigh impossible to breath.

"Ah", Jack turned around, and started for the door. "I know where she is", he nonchalantly pushed dumb-founded Gibbs aside, and opened the door.

"Jack", Gibbs followed, dread washing over him, as Jack after having checked Elizabeth's former cabin, appeared in the corridor again, with a frown on his face.

"Where are ye, 'Lizbeth?", Jack called in a steady voice, but Gibbs had an impression that it threatened to falter. "Ye caught me", he almost smiled, but the smile was odd, and half-disheartened. "Ye took me in. Now, come out."

Gibbs stopped in his tracks, indecisive as to what he should do. Unblinkingly, he watched Jack opening all of the doors in the hallway, and it seemed as if every next door was pushed open more violently, until he quitted opening them with his hand, but instead switched to kicking them open. The door screeched, some of them slammed shut again by themselves, some of them stayed ajar. The last door that Jack kicked, fell from its frame, and hit the floor, causing Gibbs to cringe. And he cringed again, when Jack ignored the broken door completely, and walked past it without even moving a muscle in his face.

"So where is she?", he asked, throwing his hands in the air in fake exasperation, and approaching Gibbs, that strange half-smile still eerily plastered to his lips.

Gibbs took a subconscious step backwards, taken aback by Jack's reaction. He had expected him to be bereaved, angry, distraught, furious... He expected some kind of reaction _to _the news. But that was decidedly worse than anything that he had expected. That was frightening, and unpredictable, and he was at loss, not knowing what more to say, or do. Should he play along? Should he tell him the horrible truth again? Should he just leave him alone? He did not know, so he just stood there, looking at him, worry blended with panic reflected in his eyes.

"Master Gibbs", said Jack through his gritted teeth, his hands curled up into fists, and Gibbs wondered briefly whether he was going to punch him. And for a moment he really wished he did, because then he would not be forced to carry on with this surreal conversation.

"Jack, please", he trailed off at the flash of annoyance in Jack's eyes.

"Very well. I'll find her myself", he said blankly, all of a sudden, stepping away from Gibbs, and heading for the rum cellar.

Gibbs put his hand to his forehead sighing heavily, then after a moment of hesitation followed Jack, making an effort to naively half-hope that Jack had just gone to simply fetch some rum, but when he stepped below he heard him calling Elizabeth's name again, and he froze in the middle of the stairs, holding onto the handrail for support. It was going to be harder than he had thought, even though he had known that it was going to be infinitely hard.

Gibbs blinked nervously, when Jack walked out of the cellar, and began climbing up the stairs.

"Where did she hide?", he muttered walking past Gibbs, and to Gibbs' further dismay he realized that he had not asked him that question, but had merely mumbled it to himself.

"Jack", Gibbs said a bit more urgently, suddenly terrified by where it all may lead. It boded ill, and he felt cold fear gripping his heart at the thought just how ill it boded. "Jack!"

But Jack was already on the deck, shouting orders to the several crew members who happened to be there at the moment. They were shifting their bewildered gazes from their Captain to Gibbs, as if expecting him to explain why they were being ordered to search the ship for somebody who was obviously not there... They were already in the middle of the search for Barbossa which had so far proved unsuccessful.

Gibbs ran his hand across his forehead, growing more and more frustrated. The crew stood motionlessly, as if immobilized by confusion and sadness that engulfed the ship that was still floating on the black waves in the glittering light emanating from the Fountain of Youth.

Jack disappeared from view for a moment, probably checking yet another place that had come to his mind, and then he came back, and stopped abruptly in his tracks, eyeing angrily the crew members who had apparently not followed his orders, and stood as before, looking at him sadly, and a bit fearfully.

"What's wrong with ye? What are ye lookin' at? Deaf, are ye? Go an' search the ship!", he bellowed, but nobody moved. Some of the men glanced at Gibbs, and some of them dropped their gazes to the ground; everybody, despite all the atrocities that they had witnessed, and some of them had even committed in their lives, felt unexpectedly, oddly sullen because of one death, and the effect of it.

"Jack", Gibbs approached Jack slowly, cautiously putting his hand on his shoulder.

Jack stood for a moment without moving, as if he had not noticed the gesture, but then turned around abruptly, yanking Gibbs' hand away from his shoulder.

"Where is she?", he asked in a loud, sharp voice, his dark eyes piercing into Gibbs. The words seemed to echoed hollowly in the semi-darkness.

"I told ye, Jack, I'm... sorry", whispered Gibbs, wincing. "I'm very sorry."

Jack stared at him, and then opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. He turned around, looked at the crew who watched the scene in grim silence. His eyes slowly acquired a strange, morose, dark glow, his facial expression hardened, his body stiffened.

Hastily, he spun around, and headed for the stairs and below deck. Gibbs waved at the crew to get back to their duties, and then, reluctantly, once again followed Jack.

* * *

Bill Turner woke up to an odd feeling of the ship rocking unsteadily, breaking across the waves with exceptional speed. He sat upright, rubbed his eyes, and without enthusiasm, staggered to his feet, wondering whether it was just his imagination, or perhaps they really had set sail.

He walked up the stairs, and looked around, quickly spotting Will steering the ship. He headed towards the helm, glancing around once again, slightly surprised by not seeing the _Black Pearl_ near by. It had been settled that they would set sail together. Unless...

"Do we have to submerge?", asked Bill Turner, startling Will by the sudden sound of his voice.

"No, not yet", answered Will, gripping the spokes, as his mind was racing trying to come up with some explanation...

"No souls to ferry?", questioned "Bootstrap" curiously, smiling at his son, somewhat worried by his strangely stiff facial expression.

"No." Will shook his head, averting his eyes from his father, and focusing on his own hands.

_Cold and shaking..._

"So why did we set sail already? An-"

"Barbossa's alive", cut in Will, an idea suddenly springing up to his exhausted mind.

"What?", Bill took a few steps forward, to be able to see at least Will's profile as he was steering the _Flying Dutchman_, his eyes fixed on the horizon. The black ocean was already behind them, and now they were sailing across the Ghost Sea again. The green mist thickening around them.

"But we couldn't find him. The brig where he'd been put wasn't locked and he, apparently not being dead, somehow managed to escape." Will stared straight ahead, trying to enliven his voice, which even to him sounded strangely dispassionate.

Bill Turner sighed, unpleasantly surprised by the news. "Have ye checked both ships?", he asked after a pause.

Will blinked. It had not crossed his mind to search the _Dutchman_, actually. He had assumed that Barbossa was, as always, after the _Pearl_, and his revenge on Jack, but then he was not sure anymore. What if Barbossa had sneaked on the _Flying Dutchman _planning on stabbing the heart?

"No, I- we didn't", he said, shifting his eyes to his father uncertainly.

"I'll order the crew to do that", said Bill Turner with a small smile, tapping Will reassuringly on the shoulder, and turning around to walk away.

"Wait, I..." Will trailed off, a brief, urgent, sudden feeling that he could just end it all right there, right then, washing over him and rendering him speechless for a moment.

"Yes?""Bootstrap" stopped, and looked at Will expectantly.

"Elizabeth is aboard", replied Will hurriedly, before the words would escape him.

Bill Turner raised his eyebrows in surprise. "El-"

"She... We... I...", Will took a deep breath, the thoughts swirling around in his head, unpronounceable. "We thought that it wouldn't be safe for her to stay on the _Pearl _after what had happened, so I proposed that I'd take her ashore as fast as possible, and the _Pearl_ would follow as soon as they searched the ship thoroughly." Will darted his eyes to his father, furtively searching his face for any signs of doubt, mistrust, hesitation... He was quite astonished that he was even able to deliver such a long sentence. He felt out of strength, and not able to say anything more.

And only after having said what he had said (and simultaneously half-consciously registering with sincere astonishment that he had just told yet another lie; and, morover, it was his father that he had lied to), he remembered that a moment ago he had actually considered admitting everything truthfully... But the idea was somehow gone, as distant and incomprehensible as if it had never even crossed his mind...

Bill Turner seemed to be pondering his son's words for a moment. "Where is she?", he asked at last, and Will was not sure whether it was a hint of suspicions or just (misinterpreted by him) worry in his father's voice.

"Below", answered Will, looking his father straight in the eyes. He wanted to add that she was asleep, but then he decided to leave that out. If they will find her asleep when they make port it will look more natural that she fell asleep at some point rather than if she was thought to be asleep throughout their journey.

"Alright", said Bill Turner at last with a reassuring smile, and Will's heart felt lighter all of a sudden.

Before it began to feel even heavier again, when he realized that the reason for his joy was, in fact, a successfully carried deception.

"I guess that's quite reasonable", said Bill thoughtfully. "I'll go t'make sure the ship's clear, an' ye see whether we can make this ship sail any faster", he added smilingly, and walked away. Will nodded, forcing a smile. "An' don't worry!", Bill Turner called to him over his shoulder, before walking down the steps and out of sight.

Will's artificial smile froze on his lips.

He just wanted to be on land again. Get off the ship, and take Elizabeth to some beautiful place, to some small, charming village where they could start living their new, wonderful, quiet, joyous life. He was sick of the ocean, of the feel of the salty wind on his face, the scent of rum, the scent of the sea,

the scent of the past.

He wanted to leave it all behind, disappear, and then appear somewhere else, and start everything all over again.

He closed his hands around the spokes tightly, subconsciously falling into the abyss of his own, entangled, feverish thoughts.

* * *

Tentatively, Gibbs pushed the Captain's Quarters door open, and slowly walked inside.

Jack stood by the dark window, with his back turned towards the door.

"Jack...", started Gibbs for the hundredth time, when after an hour of frantic, senseless search all around the ship, shouting at everybody, and pushing aside all the crew members that had accidentally stood in the way, Jack had at last returned to his cabin, his breathing ragged, eerily audible in the silence of the cabin.

Jack stood motionlessly, wordlessly, so Gibbs closed the door, and decided that it was the best moment to quickly explain what had happened. He gathered all his courage, and hesitantly at first, but then as steadily, and calmly as he could told Jack (who did not even seem to be listening) about Barbossa not being dead, about... Will seeing him, and then finding Elizabeth... And how they had decided that it was better to let the _Dutchman _carry her soul away, even though they had known that Jack might have wanted to see her... But then again perhaps it was better... Better that he would remember her... as he remembered her, and not... It was just better... He had thought... They had thought... They had decided... And perhaps even Elizabeth herself would not have wished to be seen-

"What are ye talkin' 'bout", Jack's metallic voice broke into Gibbs' monologue just when Gibbs began to hope that Jack had calmed down...

And it was not even a question. It did not sound like a question. And Jack did not turn around.

"I'm...". Gibbs trailed off and licked his dry lips. He did not know what more to say.

"What are ye talkin' 'bout", repeated Jack, oddly stressing the words, and pronouncing them very distinctly, slowly turning around. And when he faced Gibbs, his face was pale, so pale, even paler than when they had found him in the Locker. His eyes were wide-open and unmoving, like two dark stones.

Gibbs did not reply. Jack took a few slow steps toward him, repeating his sentence once again. He stopped right in front of Gibbs, who looked at him uncertainly, worriedly, his eyes dropping to Jack's hands which lifted slowly, and then rested heavily on his shoulders. He swallowed.

"Just", started Jack in an artificially calm voice, as if he was talking to a child. "Just tell me where is Lizzie."

Gibbs sighed, the look of pain returning to his face. "Jack, I told ye", he whispered almost pleadingly, feeling Jack's grasp tightening on his shoulders.

"Just tell me where she is. Please."

Gibbs cringed, cold shivers running up his spine at the last word. And then he noticed the desperate, unconscious, exhausted look in Jack's eyes. An expectant look. A demanding look. A pleading look...

"Ah, I know", whispered Jack all of a sudden, releasing Gibbs, and taking a step backwards. "It's the Locker", he said in a low voice, looking around. Gibbs blinked. "It's the Locker again", muttered Jack, putting a finger to his chin in a thoughtful gesture. "It's not real", he said a bit louder, looking at Gibbs, even though he did not seem to really see him.

"Jack", Gibbs wrinkled his forehead, and shook his head. "It's-"

"Shhh", Jack shushed him with an impatient wave of his hand. "It's", he made his voice sound quiet again. "It's not really happenin'", he whispered, as if he was revealing some great secret.

Gibbs stared at him, not knowing what to do.

"It's only a hallucination", whispered Jack confidently, looking around the cabin, and Gibbs had an impression that he was shaking. "I will show ye", said Jack all of a sudden, and Gibbs narrowed his eyes, trying to see...

And then his eyes widened at the flash of a pistol in Jack's hand, but before he managed to shout a muffled by astonishment and shock 'no!', the gunshot reverberated in the cabin, and Jack fell to the floor with a mute thud.


	69. Chapter 69

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Black River is a real town in southwestern Jamaica. The Maldream village, however, is my little invention:)

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 69**

_Six days later_

"There was a fire, three months ago, but the building still looks good." An elderly man opened the door, and walked inside.

"It does", agreed Will, following him.

The room was spatial and rather empty, except for several large tables, and many chairs, some of them broken. The wooden floor was very dusted, covered by shards of glass, hey, and dirt.

"We had a tavern here, but the owner died in the fire, so several weeks after that awful event Mr. Hummings opened a new tavern in a different part of the village", the man walked to one of the dirty, greasy windows, and pushed it open. Fresh, warm air flew inside along with the daylight. "So", he started, turning towards Will. "Where did you live before, Mr. Turner?", asked the man, blowing the dust off the oil lamp that sat on one of the tables.

"Port Royal", replied Will after a moment of hesitation, looking around the former tavern.

"Port Royal?", the man raised his eyebrows. "That's a big town. Why did you decide to move here? It's such a godforsaken place", said the man with a chuckle, which turned into a cough because of the dust that was swirling around in the air.

"My wife... She's ill, and the doctors said that it would be better for her to live in a more quiet and peaceful place", answered Will, walking around the room, and looking at the abandoned pieces of the tableware thoughtfully.

"Oh, I see, I'm sorry", replied the elderly man, nodding his head in understanding. "I hope it's nothing serious?"

"She had an accident, and since then... she is very weak, and also...", he turned around, and walked back towards the man. "She's lost her memory."

The man sighed, looking at Will compassionately. "Don't worry, lad", he said smilingly, tapping Will friendly on the shoulder. "I'm sure she'll be fine. There was once a man in our village who lost his memory after he had fallen from the roof that he was fixing. But three months later, all of a sudden, he came to our church on Sunday screaming like a madman", the elderly man shook his head, and laughed briefly at the memory. "And he remembered everything!" Will smiled, but did not say anything. "And as for this place. No doubt you'll need help with introducing some order here, eh?", he inquired with a smile.

"I can try to take care of it myself...", started Will cautiously.

"Oh, no", the man shook his head. "We won't let you do that", he said smilingly. "You're going to think ill of our village and your new neighbours. People are very friendly here. You'll find more than one pair of hands eager to help. Maybe you'll even find some apprentices? It's very fortunate incident, actually. The nearest blacksmith shop is in Black River which is the closest town, but it's still quite far away."

"I don't say no to help. I just don't want to cause any unnecessary commotion", said Will with a small smile.

"Nah", the man waved his hand and smiled. "So, let's go. Nothing more to do now. You've seen it, and I understand you're going to take it, eh?", asked the man, leading Will towards the door.

"Yes. I'd like to open the shop as soon as possible", said Will stepping outside.

The man produced the keys from his pocket, and gave them to Will. "Take these, then, although you may want to change the door as well. The lock is rather old", he smiled, the brightness of his smile matching the brightness of his light green eyes, his white hair almost glimmering in the afternoon sun.

"Thank you, Mr. Roggson", said Will with sincere gratefulness. "Thank you very much for your help with finding the house for me and my wife, and now this."

"Oh, it's nothing", the elderly man shook his head, and tapped Will on the shoulder. "We're always happy to see new people coming to live here. It doesn't happen too often."

They both smiled, and shook hands.

"And I hope to see you and your wife in our church on Sunday. We'd love to meet her. My wife and I. And we should also look about introducing you both to our neighbourhood. Sunday's the best day to do that."

"Yes, of course", Will smiled politely, and put the keys into his pocket. "We'll be there."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then", said Mr. Roggson cheerfully.

They said their good-byes, and parted, going in the opposite directions.

Will walked along the narrow path very quickly. He did not like leaving Elizabeth alone for too long. Even though she was still unconscious... But the seven days were almost over, and he expected her to wake up in the course of the next few hours. And he certainly wanted to be there with her when it happened.

Walking across the field of quietly humming grasses, he could hardly believe that he had managed to do all of the necessary preparations before Elizabeth's awakening. Everything had gone exactly the way he had wished it to go. When the _Flying Dutchman _had made port, he even had had no difficulties with convincing his father that there was no sense in waking Elizabeth up. He had told him that the _Black Pearl _was surely close behind, and that they had settled to meet in the nearest port, so there was going to be no trouble with finding each other. Fortunately, the _Flying Dutchman _had had to submerge, so they had parted ways, before Bill Turner could have suggested that he might have waited for the _Black Pearl_ with them.

Will sighed. He regretted that his and his father's good-bye was so hurried, as it was very likely that the next time they would see each other was ten years away...

He looked around. The landscape here was truly beautiful. The sky was perfectly blue, and the greenness of trees and grasses was making him feel better, if only slightly.

He could have hardly remembered the name of the town in which they had got off the _Dutchman_... They were there for a very short amount of time, because, as unbelievably fortunate as it was, there was a merchant ship in port, and he had managed to buy a passage off the town, hardly believing his luck when he had learned that that merchant ship was headed for Jamaica.

The journey had lasted four days, and then at last they had arrived in the Caribbean. He had told the captain of the ship that his wife was ill, and that was why she was not leaving their cabin at all during the journey. He himself was rarely leaving the cabin... He had been spending hours just looking at her, and thinking about the future. He had wanted to embrace her, and kiss her, but somehow he had felt that it would have been a wrong thing to do when she was unconscious. So for those four days he had merely even touched her. Her sleep was peaceful, she had not stirred, and if it was not for her steady breathing he would have been not at all sure that she was alive... He had limited himself to fixing the pillows, and tucking the bed covers around her. And to looking at her. She was so beautiful, and he had had her with him.

From the small Caribbean town in which they had got off the merchant ship, they had taken a postal carriage. He had spent half of the journey just staring out of the window, and glancing at Elizabeth, and at the chest with his father's heart that he had taken with them. He wanted to keep his father's heart safe, and somehow he was not certain that it would have been safe on the _Flying Dutchman_. Even though the ship had been searched, and, apparently, Barbossa had not been there. After all, he had always been after the _Black Pearl_, so there was really no reason for him to try to take over the _Dutchman_. Especially with Jack still having that last portion of Aqua de Vida... Unless Barbossa had not known that... But somehow he had always seemed to know everything, so perhaps he was aware of that as well.

The postal carriage ride was rather uneventful. But when they had made a stop to have a dinner and something to drink, he had met some friendly people with whom he had accidentally engaged in a conversation, and it was them who had told him about a beautiful, small village near the town of Black River. And even though the name of the town had startled Will at first rather unpleasantly, the more they had told him about the village, the more he had liked it.

After the dinner, he had returned to the carriage, and they had travelled to Black River without stopping. But when they had arrived there, he was at loss for what to do next. It was nearly impossible to walk with Elizabeth in his arms, and the sack and the chest on his back (he had made special stripes and had attached them to the chest to be able to carry it like that.)

He had rented a room in a small inn, and leaving Elizabeth alone (although he had hated leaving her alone) had gone to find some people who could have directed him to the little village that he had been told about.

And it was in Black River that he had met Mr. Roggson, accidentally running into him on his way out of a bar where he had inquired for the directions. The elderly man had offered his help, and had also told Will about a house which had been standing empty for a year now, but was in a very good condition. He was also very enthusiastic about Will being a blacksmith. He had advised him on getting a carriage which could have taken him and his wife to Maldream (which was the name of the small village), and he had given him the directions to the house, and had promised to meet Will there. The house had turned out to belong to Mr. Roggson' cousin who had died over a year ago.

Will had done as advised, and upon their arrival was surprised to find the house in the state far better than what he had hoped for. It was a very comfortable house indeed, with three bedrooms upstairs, and two spatial rooms and a kitchen on the ground floor.

And it stood virtually in the middle of nowhere at the very end of Maldream.

Deep in thought, Will reached the house, and unlocked the door. It was still early in the afternoon, and the sun was streaming through the transparent windows, brightening the interiors. He liked this house, and he had a feeling that it was going to be a happy place, especially when Elizabeth would wake up... And they were going to live here happily ever after. Like in a fairy tale...

So far everything was going so well, almost too well... He had found the house, he had found the place where he could open a blacksmith shop, and tomorrow they were going to meet their new neighbours. Life could not be more perfect. He almost completely forgot about all those terrifying moments of fear and uncertainty, right after-

No. He was not going to think about that anymore. It was over. It was behind. It was gone.

Will poured himself a glass of water, and sat at the table in the sunlit kitchen. His kitchen. _Their _kitchen. _Their _house. He smiled. It was nearly-

"I'm sorry..."

Will cringed, and jumped to his feet, the glass almost slipping out of his hand. "Elizabeth", he whispered, with a small smile tugging on his lips, his eyes involuntarily travelling to her hand, as if he wanted to make sure that she was still wearing the bracelet...

And he was both relieved and terrified. Relieved, for somewhere deep down he had feared faintly that she might not wake up... at all. And terrified, because... because she did wake up...

Elizabeth was standing in the doorway. She was still wearing her white night gown. He had just taken the coat, _that _coat, off her, as soon as they had arrived in this house. For some odd, abstract reason he had feared that it might have reminded her...

Although he knew that there was no way of remembering for her anything now. She did not just have amnesia. It was not an illness that could be cured. It was a spell. A charm. A wish. And her memory could not be just triggered by some objects. And yet he preferred to keep everything that was in any way connected with Jack Sparrow away from her. He had stuck the coat in one of the wardrobes upstairs. And, to his surprise, while doing it, he had discovered a wedding ring in one of the pockets. Their wedding ring. Elizabeth's wedding ring. E & W. So he had taken this ring, and put it on her finger instead of the green ring, which he had taken off her hand, and placed in the coat's pocket respectively.

"Elizabeth", he slowly walked towards her. Her hair was in great disarray, and she looked very pale, almost like a ghost. A beautiful ghost. He extended his hand to touch her face, but she flinched from his touch.

"Where am I? Who are you?", she asked stiffly, taking a step backwards.

Will blinked. Of course he had expected that. He had expected her to feel strange, to feel lost, especially at the beginning. But he hoped, he _knew _that it would pass, and then she would see-

Elizabeth winced, and put her hands to her head.

"Elizabeth, are you alright?", asked Will anxiously, trying to take her in his arms, and comfort her, but she stepped back abruptly, shoving him away with her hands.

"I've lost something", she whispered, holding her head in her hands, her forehead wrinkled, her eyebrows knitted together.

"Yes", Will nodded, looking at her tenderly. "You've lost your memory...", he said cautiously.

She tilted her head to the side, and looked at him blankly. "No", she whispered at last, shaking her head slightly. "That's not what I meant", she said quietly, turned around, and walked away, supporting herself with her hand on the wall as she walked.

Will stared after her confusedly, guilt and anxiety returning and hitting him with full force, until at last he regained his composure, and followed her.

He found her sitting on the bed in the bedroom where he had placed her, her eyes fixed on the floor. His heart clenched at the sight. She looked so sad, she looked so overwhelmingly sad, that for a moment he wished he could take it all back... all of his actions... It had never crossed his mind that what he had done might have made her sad. With no memory, how could she be sad? It was obvious that she was going to feel awkward and out of place, maybe. That she will need time to get to know him, to trust him, to... love him. But somehow he had never considered that she might have woken up feeling sad... for no reason, apparently.

And yet as he looked at her, there was hardly anything else in her face, but sadness.

* * *

"Well", the doctor sighed, and closed the door after exiting the side cabin. "There's not much more I can do, I'm afraid", he said, knitting his eyebrows, and rubbing his forehead. 

"Will he die?", asked Gibbs after a pause in a hollow tone of voice.

The doctor raised his eyebrows, and shook his head. "I didn't say that", he pointed out with a small smile. "Although we can't get rid of that fever, for some reason", he added with a hint of irritation in his voice.

Gibbs sighed. "It was an awful week", he whispered tiredly, running his hand across his forehead.

"Awful?!", exclaimed the doctor almost peevishly, walking over to the desk, and grabbing a random piece of paper from there. "I'd say it was a miraculous week. One more inch to the left, and you could've been coming back from his funeral right now."

"I know", said Gibbs quickly. "I didn't mean... It's just... It's been a nightmare, the last few days."

"Yes", the doctor nodded rather mechanically, and handed Gibbs the piece of paper on which he had written something. "Here's the name of the place where you can find me. I'll come tomorrow to check on him, but... well. Just in case something unexpected should happen."

Gibbs took the paper, and nodded gloomily. "Thank ye."

"Ah, don't worry", said the doctor tapping Gibbs on the shoulder. "I've seen worse cases. He'll be fine. One would think he did it on purpose", said the doctor in a friendly jocular manner. "But when he regains consciousness you might want to tell him that three bullet holes in one chest is quite enough."

Gibbs tried to smile, but failed. The doctor shook his hand. "I bid you a good night", he said with a reassuring smile, and left the _Black Pearl_'s Captain's Quarters.

* * *

"Elizabeth", Will slowly walked over to the bed, and sat next to her. She neither moved, nor looked at him. "You had an accident-", he stopped, suddenly remembering what he had promised himself. He had promised that he would not lie to her. 

But it was not a lie. It was... an accident, at least from her point of view... it must have been... so...

"And you have lost your memory", he continued, deciding not to specify what kind of accident she had had, especially, that she had not asked for an explanation. At least not yet. "And you were unconscious for several days", he concluded in a gentle voice, wondering whether it was good that he had told her about her memory loss... Maybe she should have discovered it by herself, as if... Because now it was almost like he had known that she had lost her memory, even before she had realized that...

"Is this my name?" Her soft voice shook him out of his thoughts. He darted his eyes to her, her face still fixed on the wooden floor.

"Yes. Your name's Elizabeth. Elizabeth Turner", he said with a surprisingly tight throat. Why had it felt so odd to say it? It was true. It was the truth. She was his wife. They had got married. And yet he had felt strange telling her that... "And I'm Will", he added, even though she had not asked. "Will Turner."

Slowly, she shifted her eyes to him. He smiled, and reached for her hand, but she retracted her hand before he touched it. "I don't know you", she said plainly, and even though there was nothing harsh in her voice, her words hit him like a cold wave that washed over him, freezing his blood.

"You don't remember me", he corrected, trying to retain his smile.

She looked at him intently. "Are you my brother?", she asked after a pause.

Will blinked. "No. Why?", he asked, feeling even colder.

"Turner. Elizabeth Turner and Will Turner, that's what you said."

"I'm your husband", he interrupted her with a hint of impatience in his voice. Although he knew that it was not her fault. He knew that she was not doing that deliberately, yet it hurt him, in some abstract way it hurt him that her first assumption was that they were siblings.

"Oh. I'm sorry", she said indifferently, and averted her eyes.

He looked at her in silence for a moment, allowing her to collect her thoughts. She was different. Quiet and vulnerable. And sad. Predominantly sad. And it pained him to see her so sad, so broken.

Yet... It was incredible. And even though the beginnings were apparently going to be difficult, they could not overshadow his joy at the sight of her, at the realization that she was with him, that they were going to live together, to be together as they had always wanted.

Maybe she was not sad, perhaps she was just exhausted after those few days of unconsciousness and motionlessness. But what was important was the fact that she believed him, as it seemed. She was not doubting whatever he was saying, and it was as good a start as he could have ever wished for.

"I was worrying about you, Elizabeth", he said, watching her profile, waiting for her to look at him again. She looked straight ahead, and did not turn her head to meet his gaze. "I'm glad you're alright."

No reaction. Elizabeth folded her hands in her lap, and began playing with the wedding ring, turning it round and round on her finger.

"We were living in Port Royal before, but we moved here very recently. This village's name is Maldream. The air is very fresh here, and I'm sure it will help you get well quickly", he smiled. "And people are very friendly here. One man, Mr. Roggson, who actually told me about this house and is going to sell it to us, will help me to open a blacksmith shop..."

Will continued, not discouraged by Elizabeth's unresponsiveness. He went on, talking about his profession, and then somehow he moved back in time and told her about Port Royal. He recounted their first meeting, and told her briefly about the years that followed. He mentioned her parents, he even mentioned James Norrington, and how she had not wanted to marry him, because... He had some troubles here, but somehow managed to smoothly proceed to the pirate's attack on Port Royal, and how she was kidnapped, and how he had gone after her. He tried hard to tell her everything truthfully, with one exception, which was not even an exception, really. Since it was not a lie. It was merely an omission. A very careful and diligent omission of Jack Sparrow.

It even slightly surprised him, how coherent the story turned out to be, even without its main plotter.

He paused, and looked at Elizabeth, suddenly uncertain whether she was listening to him. She was sitting quietly, and staring at her hands with a pensive expression on her face. Pensive and sad.

Will lifted his hand, and touched her head with the intention of gently stroking her hair for a moment, but she shook her head abruptly, and shot him a grim look.

He slowly retracted his hand, and muttered some apologies, to which she responded offering hers. He smiled, and said that he understood how she felt, and she did not need to worry about that. She nodded, but moved further away from him. And it hurt him, but he decided to ignore it. She had just woken up. She did not remember anything. It must feel terrible not to remember anything. He could not even try to imagine...

She needed time. He knew she needed time. And they had time. So he was not going to rush her. He wanted her to really see for herself that he loved her, that he cared for her, that to him, she was the most important person in the world.

"...and your father eventually agreed, and gave us his blessing", he said smilingly, continuing telling her the story of their lives, looking at Elizabeth's profile, and hoping to see some emotion there. But her face was emotionless, except for that sorrow that glistened in her eyes that were fixed indifferently on her own hands.

"I've lost something", she said slowly, without looking up at him.

Will blinked, wondering whether she was listening to him at all, or maybe she was exploring her own thoughts throughout his monologue in which he had tried to bring the past closer to her. He thought that by telling her about her past, about her life, her parents, her likes and dislikes he would make her feel safer, and less confused. She would know exactly who she was and who he was. She would know her life even without remembering it. And it was something that Jack Sparrow had not done. Jack Sparrow had removed her past completely, leaving her in the emptiness, endangered by the sense of insecurity, and without the sense of belonging.

While he wanted her to feel safe, he wanted her to know that she had the past, that she belonged to this world.

That she belonged with him...

"Maybe one day-", he trailed off, and scolded himself inwardly. So close. It was so close. He had almost told her that one day she may regain her memory, and that would be a lie. So close. He was so near to lying to her. He ought to be more careful in the future.

"No, I told you that's not it", said Elizabeth with a trace of impatience in her voice. Will looked at her curiously. "I've lost something...", she hesitated, and he watched with growing dread how her hand well-nigh unconsciously travelled upwards, until it rested on her chest, on her... heart. "I don't know, I just...", she trailed off, and narrowed her eyes, staring pensively into the distance.

Will looked at he wordlessly, feeling a strong, pulsating headache creeping over him, when all of a sudden she spoke again.

"Or maybe you're right...", she whispered hesitantly, her hand sliding down back onto her lap. "It's my memory, that feeling. It's my memory that I've lost..."

"Of course", said Will a little too quickly, the headache fading.

"It just feels so hollow...", she slowly rose to her feet, and hugged herself.

"What feels so hollow?", asked Will confusedly, staggering to his feet.

"Everything", answered Elizabeth almost inaudibly. "Everywhere... Everything...", she grimaced, and bowed her head.

"Elizabeth", he approached her from behind, and put his hand on her shoulder.

She spun around, and his hand dropped back to his side. "I don't remember anything", she said through her gritted teeth, and he could see the tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to run down her cheeks at any moment.

"I know, I'm sorry", he whispered in a faltering voice, the sense of guilt causing him to almost choke on the words. "It will be alright. Don't worry. You'll see. Everything will be alright", he smiled reassuringly, and extended his hand, but she escaped his touch once again.

He told himself off for his impatience. She had just woken up. She needed more time. She should not feel stalked. He should just let her be, until she would begin to feel comfortable around him.

_How much time did it take him?_, he thought, his mind, quite against his will, producing even more questions. _How did he make her trust him so quickly? How many days (days!...) did it take him to kiss her? Was she flinching away from his touch like that when she had woken up? Did she try to touch her? Maybe he was smart enough to wait... Wait? For how long? When the Dutchman caught up with the Pearl, they had just left Tortuga, and in Tortuga they had spent together maybe several days... Seven? Five? Maybe even less... How did he do that?_

"I love you, Elizabeth", said Will sincerely, breaking through his annoying thoughts, through those annoying comparisons which, he feared, were going to haunt him for a long time yet.

She looked at him blankly, as if his words had not made any impression on her.

"I don't know you", she said in an almost apologetic tone of voice, wrapping her arms around herself tighter.

"You don't remember me", he corrected patiently, trying to smile.

She nodded absently. "I'm thirsty", she said after a pause.

"Of course", Will almost jumped at the statement. He should have thought of that himself. She had not eaten or drunk for seven days. "Sit down, or lie down, and rest, Elizabeth. And I will bring you food and drinks right away", he said softly, guiding her towards the bed and sitting her down.

"Would you like some water or hot tea?", he asked, but then thought better of it. "I'll bring you both", he said with a smile, and turned around to leave.

"I don't want any water", said Elizabeth tiredly, pulling her legs up onto the bed..

"Alright. Only tea, then", consented Will, reaching for the doorknob.

"I don't want any tea either", said Elizabeth in a quiet, but resolute tone of voice, making herself comfortable in the bed, tucking the soft bed cover around herself, and pressing her cheek to the pillow.

Will stopped in the doorway, and looked at her slightly puzzled. "So what would you like to drink, Elizabeth?", he asked warily, with an uncertain smile. "I'm afraid that we don't-"

"Rum", she interrupted him, delivering her response in a drowsy voice.

Will's eyes widened. "Rum?", he echoed mechanically, staring at her in disbelief.

"Yes, rum", she repeated, her eyes already closed. "I don't remember how it tastes like, but it's the first thing that came to my mind when you asked what I wanted to drink, so I guess I like it", she explained quietly, snuggling her face into the pillow.

Will looked at her wordlessly for a moment yet, not sure what to make out of it. In the perfect silence of the room, he could hear her steady breathing, and he wondered, whether she had fallen asleep already. After seven days of sleeping, as if, it seemed strange, but...

"We don't have any rum", he said quietly, not wanting to wake her up if she was asleep already, but loud enough for her to hear if she wasn't. He turned around, and left the room, noiselessly closing the door behind him.

But Elizabeth heard him leaving nonetheless, and as soon as the door closed, she opened her eyes, letting the tears flow down her face, even though she did not really know why she was crying.


	70. Chapter 70

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews!**_

...& I have one important announcement: we _are _heading toward the end of this story! (However, what I mean by _heading toward the end _is that we have 15 to 25 more chapters to go, so don't delete this story from your alerts list yet;)

...& dear CJS, Jack shot himself in the chest, hence 2 (bullet holes that he already had) + 1 (new) is 3 :)

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 70**

Sounds. Faint... distinct... echoing... reverberating distinctly... faintly... in his head... around him... the sounds... distant... repeated... weak...

Annoying. Predominantly annoying, actually.

Jack opened his eyes, his gaze meeting the darkened air around him, the ceiling above him, the mist in his mind. He moved, but the music did not stop. So it was real. The music was real.

Music? Hardly. The sounds. Annoying sounds, but familiar annoying sounds nonetheless.

He thought about pulling himself up to the sitting position, but when he bent his elbows to support himself and do just that, his arms gave way, and he fell down back onto the pillows.

"D'ye need help with that?"

Jack's eyes flew wide open, the voice catching him off guard. He lie motionlessly, not even turning his head to the side to look at the speaker.

Of all the places Shipwreck Cove was one of the last that he wanted to be in at the moment.

But perhaps it was only because the place in which he would like to be most now was non-existent.

Because he did not want to be anywhere. He wanted to be nowhere.

He did not want to be.

"Can ye stop, perhaps", he said in a voice so hoarse and husky, that he was not even sure that it really was his own voice.

The sounds stopped, merging into silence. Jack closed his eyes, his body feeling strangely heavy, his head pulsating, a hot, numb, nagging sensation coursing through his entire body, red lava of pain washing over him.

And she was there. Inside his head, inside _him_. Her face, her smile, her touch, her voice... The sound of her voice ringing in his ears, breaking through silence, flowing into him, flowing against the pain, struggling to overcome it, and...

failing.

Jack opened his eyes, and sat up abruptly, turning away from the direction the music had been coming from. He stared at the wall unblinkingly, the expression on his face a frozen frown, his uneven breathing irritatedly audible.

"We spend our lives wishin' t'live forever only to one day realize that the life which we already have is too long." The calm voice floated to Jack from the other side of the cabin, followed by a faint sound, quickly silenced, nigh accidental.

"Why am I bloody here?", asked Jack sharply, but his voice faltered involuntarily at the end of the sentence.

"If ye don't want to be somewhere, there's a great chance that it's exactly where the wind will toss ye", answered Teague, soundlessly brushing his fingers across the strings of his guitar.

"Hope everybody around's greatly entertained", said Jack in a husky voice, coughing in between words, his throat feeling tight, dry, and sour.

Teague tilted his head to the side, almost resting it against the back of the chair. "Ye got shot during a battle on the Ghost Sea", he said in a low voice, eyes fixed on Jack, who was still sitting on the edge of the bed with his back turned toward his father.

"That story won't help him not t'pay for interruptin' said shootin'", replied Jack grimly after a pause.

"Which was very stupid", observed Teague after a pause in a quiet, but distinct tone of voice.

"An' now if I could be left with me stupidity-", replied Jack, grimacing, and glancing at the dressing on his chest, which began to come off.

"To give in to it?", cut in Teague unhurriedly, with almost blank, mild interest.

Jack narrowed his eyes in exhausted annoyance. "To give in to what?", he snapped. "What do ye even know of it?", he asked sternly.

Teague placed his open palm on the strings, but made no sound. "What I've been told."

"Ah", acknowledged Jack with a sour half-snort. "Not much, it is."

"I'm not tryin' to imagine the rest", replied Teague, shifting his gaze to the guitar in his hands.

"Sounded like that", retorted Jack in a hoarse voice, which broke into cough.

"People live as long-", started Teague, hitting softly one of the strings.

"As we remember them? Love them? Miss them?", cut in Jack irritatedly, angrily. "Which one is it? I might've forgotten several other versions."

Teague rose to his feet, and slowly walked to the door. He put his hand on the doorknob, and pressed it. "As long as we believe in them", he finished his sentence, glancing over his shoulder, and then left the cabin.

Jack shifted his eyes to the door when it closed behind his father, and squinted.

* * *

"I don't want to go", said Elizabeth blankly, bringing the cup of hot milk to her lips, and taking a cautious sip. 

Will blinked, and looked at Elizabeth somewhat surprised. He could not, as hard as he tried, to figure out her mood... One moment she was sad, the next minute, angry, then she was on the verge of tears, then again irritated...

When he had brought the food to her the day before, she was asleep, and she had not woken up until the late evening. And when she finally had opened her eyes, she had seemed upset that he was there in the room with her, watching her. She had not said anything, but she had _looked _upset. She had eaten a slice of cheese, a piece of fruit, had drunk a cup of water (after asking him once again about the rum, and after he had responded as calmly as possible that there was no rum), and had gone to sleep again. He had watched her for a couple of minutes, and then had left the room, feeling strangely alienated, all of a sudden. She had seemed so distant, so disinterested in everything in general, that she had hardly resembled that girl that he had known... or had thought that he had known...

And now they were sitting together by the breakfast table, and he had felt a new flicker of hope being ignited in his imagination, when he had seen her coming down the stairs this morning, dressed in a beige dress that he had bought for her in Black River, having no other clothes for her apart from the white night gown she had been wearing, and the ash pink dress that she had left on the _Flying Dutchman _some time ago, when he had tried to take her away... There was the storm, and she had changed the dress for a shirt and a pair of breeches, leaving the dress in his cabin.

The flicker of hope... which somehow faded when at his announcement that they were going to the church today, and that they were going to meet their new neighbours, she answered no. Sharply and simply: no.

"But...", started Will tentatively.

"I don't want to go", repeated Elizabeth indifferently, putting the cup with the milk away. She did not like the taste. Or perhaps it was just too hot.

"But we have to go", stated Will cautiously, looking at Elizabeth hesitantly.

She darted her eyes to him, her face blank. "But I don't want to", she said stubbornly, and he was not sure, but he had an impression that the implied meaning of her steady gaze was more or less "and there is nothing you can do about it."

He took a deep breath, and extended his hand, covering her hand that was lying on the table with his, and doing it so swiftly, that she had no time to notice his intention, and retract her hand. "Elizabeth..."

She tried to withdraw her hand, but he did not let her. She gave him an irritated look, and her mouth twitched, but she did not say anything.

"Please. We have to go. If we want to live here, we have to meet people, make friends. Otherwise we will be treated as intruders, and not as a part of this community."

She wanted to repeat her stand, but he looked at her so pleadingly, that she felt all of a sudden guilty of being so inconsiderate.

Inconsiderate... Even the words seemed to lose their meaning. Considerate? Inconsiderate? What was the difference. She felt so empty, so broken. When she had woken up she had felt as if she had not existed at all... Her mind was blank, and she could not find any thought in her mind to hold on to... Her mind was empty... And she had needed a moment to realize that it was not her mind that was empty, but her memory. She had no memory!... Everytime she repeated this phrase, or merely _realize _it in her head she felt so cold, so dreadfully cold, and lonely. She felt as if she had no heart, no mind... As if it was not the memory she was lacking, but her entire being, her entire self.

And there was he. Will Turner. Somebody whom she supposedly loved. And his name meant nothing. His face meant nothing. He did not exist as well. She did not feel anything when she looked at him.

Although she did not feel anything when she looked at herself in the mirror as well...

As if... she had no feelings. No feelings at all. Only that numb, mute, odd feeling of emptiness, sadness, and... longing.

Longing?...

"Elizabeth", Will's calm voice shook her out of her reverie.

He was trying to be nice, no doubt. He was trying to comfort her, and yet she could not find it in her to even pretend that she felt something for him... Which she should, shouldn't she? They were married, and they were quite happy, as it seemed. Were... Had been... And he probably expected her to behave more... more like she should behave being his wife and all...

"How come I don't remember anything?", she whispered, searching his face for an answer, even before he started answering.

Will blinked, and sighed. "I know it's hard for you", he said tenderly, squeezing her hand lightly, wishing that she would not pull away. "It's hard for me too, but try not to think about it, just-"

"Not to think about it?", she broke in, withdrawing her hand from under his. "How? It's _all_ I can think about!", she exclaimed, rising to her feet abruptly, and leaving the table.

Will followed her with his gaze, and opened his mouth to speak, but could not think of any good reply.

"Elizabeth...", he stood up, and walked up to her. She was staring out of the window with her hands folded across her chest. "Elizabeth..."

"I'm not going anywhere", she snapped irritatedly, and walking past him, ran out of the kitchen.

* * *

Bad dream. It was only a bad dream. 

Jack put his head in his hands, and closed his eyes.

How could it be anything else, but a bad dream?

"_How long have you been not sleeping, Jack?"_

His eyes snapped open, and he stared at his palms, at the darkness that surrounded him, the darkness that was everywhere.

Only it was not real, it could not be real. She was here. She was right here. She was here a moment ago, a minute ago she was here. He could still feel her, he could feel her presence, her touch, her breath brushing against his skin, her eyes glimmering in the darkness, brightening it, brightening everything, and there was light everywhere, everywhere she looked. And there was light within him when she was looking at him.

"_I'm not cold, I'm embarrassed."_

He made an incoherent, growling sound, and squeezed his face with his hands. It was not happening. It was not true.

He tried to remember what Gibbs had told him, his words not quite reaching him then... neither reaching him now. He did remember the words... the words, the sounds. But they carried no meaning. He did not understand them.

"_I want a parrot."_

Slowly staggering to his feet, he felt his head burning, and he stood for a moment unsteadily, before collapsing back onto the bed. Somehow he could not stand. His legs felt weak, his mind was racing, his thoughts were crackling and burning, and they were making no sense, no sense at all.

"_Yes, a parrot. A colorful one."_

He ran his hand across his forehead, only subconsciously noticing that his forehead was burning hot. But what did that mean? Maybe there was a fire? Somewhere... Everywhere... Red flames spinning around him... spinning him around... And he covered his face with his hands, but the flames were still there... inside his head... or outside... or...

"_And I want it to talk to me."_

He shuddered, and gritted his teeth.

But it was only a bad dream. A bad dream. And he just needed to wake up. Wake up, and look at her, and...

"_And I want it to sing."_

His hands slid down his face almost involuntarily, and limply fell to his sides. He opened his eyes and stared at the dark ceiling, breathing heavily.

"_I love you, Jack."_

His eyelids fell over his eyes, and he lie motionlessly, overtaken by fever, by darkness, and by her voice, her voice, her voice, her voice!...

* * *

His voice reached her in the middle of the stairs. 

"Elizabeth, please, wait", Will climbed up quickly, two steps at a time, until he stood at the same step on which she was standing.

She turned around, and looked at him grumpily. Will blinked, slightly taken aback by that kind of look. She had never looked ar him this way. Maybe once... When he had asked her where was Jack, after she had sat down in that longboat... But even that look then was not as cold as this one.

"I know that you just... woke up", he said slowly, averting his eyes. "And... you don't remember anything, and you feel... lost, but...", he paused, and looked at her again. She looked at him steadily. "But... it's really important. We really should go there", he said in a low, gentle, pleading voice, looking at her intensely.

Elizabeth leaned against the handrail, and crossed her arms over her chest, and Will briefly thought that she was doing it quite often, as of late, as if she was trying to protect herself. Or hide herself.

"Everything is new to you now, but so it is to me", he said with a small smile. "I don't know those people yet too. I do feel like a stranger myself", he said thoughtfully, taking a step towards her. "But you shouldn't feel lonely", he said quietly, slowly reaching for her hand, and taking it in his. She shifted her eyes to their hands, and looked at them indifferently. "You have me", he said after a pause, smiling at her faintly.

She lifted her gaze to his face, and looked at him, but he could not quite interpret her facial expression. What was she thinking? What was she feeling? Was she feeling anything? Anything at all? Her face looked as if she was drained of all emotions, as if she did not care about anything anymore, and it pained him to see her in such a state. And it pained him to know that it was all his fault. But what had been done, could not be undone. The past was closed, and left behind. And he only hoped that in few days, or few weeks she would overcome that strange, alienating sorrow, and he would be able to get to her, to her world, to her mind, and... to her heart.

"I just don't feel too well", said Elizabeth, trying, as politely as she could, wiggled her hand out of his. She really felt sorry for him. He seemed to be a good person. _Good husband_, she reminded herself, unexpectedly feeling strangely thrilled by the word.

Elizabeth blinked, baffled. It was the first word that had stirred any emotion in her. _Husband_, she tried again, and the word, even not said out loud, sent a nice shiver up her spine. She would even find it amusing, if it was not for her general, grim mood. Although... _Will_, she said to herself, but the name, oddly, did not evoke any feelings. It was rather strange. He was her husband (she shivered again). Will was her husband. And yet 'Will' as a word made no impression on her, while 'husband' did. Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead.

"Are you cold?" Will's voice snapped her back into the reality. He was looking at her anxiously.

"No", Elizabeth shook her head, trying to focus her attention on him again.

"Alright", Will sighed helplessly, feeling defeated. "I will go by myself."

She looked at him intently from under her eyelashes.

"I will tell them that you still don't feel alright, but-"

"But what?", she cut in, narrowing her eyes.

Will smiled at her weakly. "But I'd be very happy if you could promise me that next week you will go with me", he said, looking at her hopefully.

"Oh", Elizabeth's facial expression softened. She was afraid that he would insist on her going after all, and was rather relieved that he had not. "Well, I guess...", she said hesitantly.

Will smiled at her brightly. "Thank you", he said nigh cheerfully, and she opened her mouth to say that she had not exactly promised him anything yet, but then all of a sudden his lips were on hers, and he was kissing her.

Her eyes flew wide-open, and she pushed him away, and he stumbled backwards, almost falling down the stairs, looking sad, but not too surprised. "I'm sorry", he muttered guiltily, avoiding her eyes, which were, he was sure of that, sending daggers at him right now.

Elizabeth stared at him angrily, with her hands curled up into fists, and for a moment she was seriously considering pushing him down the stairs, but at last she collected herself, and just ran away from him, and back to the bedroom upstairs.

She furiously slammed the door shut behind her, and fell onto the bed, bursting into tears, and crying into the pillow.

* * *

"I figured that Shipwreck Island will be the best place to go...", said Gibbs hesitantly, looking at the floor. "I'm sorry." 

Jack sat at the edge of the bed, staring at his boots. He rested his forehead in his open palm, trying to understand what Gibbs was saying.

He should not have sent for him. But he had thought that he wanted, needed, had to hear all of that once again. To believe.

No, not to believe. To... not to believe.

"I want to see her", he whispered, rubbing his forehead against his palm, forgetting about his former question. If he had asked any question. He was not sure. Maybe Gibbs was just talking. Without having been asked. Or having been sent for. But no, he had sent for him. Or maybe he hadn't. Or...

Gibbs took a deep breath. "I know, I'm sorry 'bout that too, Jack", he whispered with sincere regret in his voice. Now that he thought about it, he was not sure if Will had been right, after all. Maybe it would have been better to wait, and let Jack see her? "I just thought... I was... I still think... But of course...", he trailed off, and sighed.

Jack lifted his head with visible difficulty, as if his head was very heavy, so heavy, almost too heavy to lift it... His lips were slightly parted, and his breathing labored, his eyes dark, feverish, glistening with desperation-induced unpredictability. "I need to see her", he said in a hollow, surprisingly calm tone of voice, which contrasted shockingly with the wild fire in his eyes.

Gibbs shifted uncomfortably. He hated seeing Jack like that. In fact, he had never seen him in such a state. Not once. And he just wished he could tell him that it was all not true, that it had never really happened, that it was all nothing, but a bad dream...

Because it really felt like a bad dream. An odd bad dream... First, the news about Barbossa being alive, then... Jack having been found unconscious, then Will finding Elizabeth... And it was also strange that they had never found Barbossa, although he had had nowhere to run. But it was not the only one odd question that bothered Gibbs... There were many more questions, actually. For instance... why hadn't Barbossa killed Jack? Or why hadn't he kidnapped Elizabeth? Or at least why had he disappeared after killing her, and not stayed to triumph over Jack's despair which must have been his motivation for keeping him alive in the first place: to see him suffer. And yet, he had just vanished. Perhaps he had sneaked onto the _Flying Dutchman_? Maybe he had planned on stabbing the heart, and overtaking the ship?

And actually the longer Gibbs thought about it, the more incoherent the entire chain of events seemed to be...

"Master Gibbs." Jack's voice, strangely hollow, and only vaguely resembling the voice in which Jack had usually delivered this phrase shook Gibbs out of his thoughts.

"Aye?", asked Gibbs quickly.

"I said something", said Jack exhaustedly, putting his head in his hands.

"I- I'm sorry, what did you-", started Gibbs feeling utterly stupid for letting his mind wander while-

Jack swallowed. "Set sail", he said in a low, muffled voice.

Gibbs blinked. "Jack, I don't thi-"

"Set sail", repeated Jack more decidedly, slowly lifting his head, and shifting his eyes to Gibbs.

"Alright", said Gibbs after a pause, having no heart to argue with Jack at that point. "An'... our heading? I mean...where are we-"

"World's End", cut in Jack, and closed his eyes, resting his head against his bent hand.

Gibbs' eyes widened, and for a moment he just stared at Jack, trying to make sense of the order that he had just been given. And he wanted to ask whether he had heard correctly, but then Jack looked at him again, and the heart-wrenching look of numb pain in his eyes silenced Gibbs, and he just nodded wordlessly, and left the cabin.

Jack sighed, and closed his eyes. He had to see her again. He just had to see her again. He must be able to see her again. Bill Turner must let him, must do something to let him see her just one last time, one last time he just had to see her, he had to look at her... look at Lizzie... look at his Lizzie, look at his wife one more, one last time...


	71. Chapter 71

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews:)**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 71**

Elizabeth felt strangely relieved, when she had closed the door behind Will and stayed alone in the house. Yet, she did not really want to be alone, but somehow she did not want to be with him _more _than she did not want to be alone. With a sigh, she slowly walked to the kitchen, and took a wary look around it. Her eyes swept over the table disinterestedly, and although the thought that perhaps she should clear the table and wash the dishes did flicker across her mind, she just did not feel like doing any of it right now.

She left the kitchen, and walked around the house, peering into every room, opening the drawers, and wardrobes, but not finding anything interesting there. She reminded herself that her husband, that Will (she grimaced, the two synonymous words, for some odd, unidentified reason still just did not seem to be synonymous) had told her that they had just moved here. But it did not explain the lack of so many things. The lack of clothes. Hadn't they have any? It seemed almost as if they had come here out of nowhere, as if they had never lived anywhere before.

Elizabeth climbed up the stairs, not without difficulty. It was strange that simply walking up the stairs was exhausting her so. She took a deep breath, and slowly went to what came to be regarded as her bedroom.

Even though she did not like the room. She did not like the house for that matter either... She felt as if there was not enough air to breath in this house.

Taking another deep breath, Elizabeth slumped down onto the bed, and sighed. She gathered her hands on her lap, and looked at them, having the impression that they were shaking, if only slightly. Nigh unconsciously, she began scrutinizing her hands. They were pale, and smooth, and there was a wedding ring on her finger. She took it off, and bringing it close to her face, she mouthed the letters engraved on the ring. W & E. Will and Elizabeth. She sighed again, and put the ring back on her finger. She had no more rings. Only a gold bracelet on her wrist. It was a simple, and not particularly eye-catching bracelet. She pulled at the bracelet, but it was too tight, and did not want to slide off her hand, so she lifted her hand, looking for a lock. Wrinkling her forehead in puzzlement she reluctantly acknowledged that... there was no lock. There was no lock, and yet the bracelet was too tight to slide off her wrist... She stared at it in half-absent wonder, turning the bracelet around her wrist, her mind gradually wandering off the bracelet and toward different subjects.

How could she not remember anything? How could she not even remember, or at least _feel _her feelings? How could she just forget that she loved her husband? Her husband... That she loved Will.

Again, the discrepancy between her attitude toward the words startled her. _I love Will_, sounded blank, while _I love my husband_ thrilled her, and it actually sounded truthful.

Elizabeth rose to her feet, and walked to the window. She tapped her fingernails against the glass, and sighed. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong, although she did not even have even a vague suspicion what could possibly be wrong, and yet she felt that something was not right, that something was just not right at all.

* * *

They left Shipwreck Cove in not particularly well-justified hurry. And only when the _Black Pearl _was already in the open ocean it dawned on Gibbs that they had not even picked up any supplies, and that they were running low not only on rum, but also on food, and drinking water. It was therefore established that they should make a short-lasting stop in one of the closest ports, and while Tortuga was among those, they agreed to stop there.

* * *

"And how do you find Maldream, Mr. Turner?", asked smilingly a middle-aged man, looking at Will interestedly.

"It welcomed us very warmly. We shall not forget that, Mr. Grant", answered Will with a polite, a little strained smile, as it was perhaps the tenth time today, when he was forced to answer more or less the same set of friendly questions.

"I'm sure you will like it here", added Mr. Grant's wife, smiling pleasantly. "And I do hope that we'll soon be able to meet your wife."

"Of course. As soon as she feels better", replied Will reassuringly.

"Ah, here you are", an elderly man approached the small gathering, and tapped Will on the shoulder. "Hope you didn't find our minister utterly boring?", asked Mr. Roggson, laughing briefly.

"Mr. Roggson!", exclaimed Mrs. Grant with half-hearted indignation, smiling amusedly.

"No", answered Will with a chuckle. "I guess I was too preoccupied with admiring the church's interiors", he added, causing general laughter.

"I'm always more than happy to see people in such high, joyful spirits, especially right after the mass", the minister's voice suddenly mixed into the conversation.

Mr. Roggson cleared his throat, while Mr. Grant and Will held back their grins, reducing them quickly to simple smiles, and only Mrs. Grant seemed unable to regain her composure immediately, as she kept giggling quietly behind her husband shoulder.

"Yes, our spirits are in the most fine of moods", said Mr. Roggson cheerfully. "And we were just inviting Mr. Turner to join us for dinner in the_ Brave Bravado_", he added with a smile.

"Ah, yes, of course", nodded the minister. "It's a small local tradition that Mr. Roggson introduced here to my doubtful contentment", observed the minister, glancing at Mr. Roggson with half-serious disapproval.

"And why is that?", asked Will with a smile.

"Well", the minister sighed exaggeratedly. "Going from the church straight to the tavern every Sunday seems more like slightly awkward to me", he explained with a smile.

"I see", said Will with a chuckle.

"Nah", Mr. Grant waved his hand dismissively. "Nothing vicious is going on there. It's just a dinner and some conversation-"

"And _some _drinks", cut in Mrs. Grant in an amused voice.

"Exactly", agreed the minister with a nod. "That's what I was referring to. Thank you Mrs. Grant, I see I have at least one ally here", he said with a smile.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure", Mr. Grant shook his head with a smile. "Because if we were not going to the _Brave Bravado_, the ladies wouldn't have their secret Sunday meetings as well."

"There's nothing secret about our meetings", said Mrs. Grant defensively with a small pout. "But speaking of that", she added quickly, shifting her eyes to Will. "I do hope that Mrs. Turner will join us next Sunday."

Will assured her that Mrs. Turner will be most delighted to join them as soon as her health permits her to do so.

* * *

Going to Tortuga was an unwise thing to do, and Jack realized that as soon as he stepped on land, and especially later when all of a sudden he found himself in the middle of the road, _that _road, and for a moment he thought that he really saw her face in the crowd, and that she noticed him like back then when she had come to Tortuga, back then right before that accident.

Jack froze, and just stood motionlessly for a while, staring absently into the distance, collecting the debris of his thoughts, and even wondering if what he remembered had really happened. Maybe he had just imagined it? Maybe she had never come to Tortuga, maybe she had never wanted to find him, maybe she had never-

"_I love you, Jack."_

He closed his eyes, he shut his eyes abruptly, pressing his eyelids tightly, trying to cut himself off from the world around him, from the sight of the world around him... His eyes stung, something hot gathering under his eyelids, burning his eyes, forcing him to open them and let the fire flow, let the fiery river of pain flow down his face. But he resisted. He just stood there, the warm, indifferent wind tugging on his dreadlocks, on his coat which did not fit too well, because it was old and tattered.

She still had his coat.

Was she still wearing his coat?

Where was she now?

He slowly opened his eyes, the wind quickly brushing the droplets of fire away from his face.

Where was she now?

The strangeness of the question startled him. It sounded odd... yet, it sounded real... His gaze was absently wandering among the crowd. People's faces, different faces, and in each of them he saw a shadow of one and the same face, of that only one face...

_Where are you, Lizzie?_

"Jack Sparrow!", a high-pitched tone of voice shook Jack out of his reverie. He cringed, and turned around with an unmoving face.

A girl with long red hair smiled. "You haven't been here in ages!"

"I'm still not here, Scarlett", he answered blankly, attempting to walk past her.

The girl blinked, and narrowed her eyes, and then after a moment of consideration followed him.

"You look grim", she observed, appearing on his side.

"I feel more grimmer, I assure ye", answered Jack under his breath without looking at her.

"It does seem so", she agreed, lacing her hand through his arm.

"It is so", he answered shooting her a long, meaningful look, and gently pushing her hand away.

She took a quick step forward, and blocked his way. Jack stopped abruptly, and lifted his eyes to her. She was going to say something, to snap at him half-jokingly, but then her smile turned into a concerned frown.

"What's wrong?", she asked studying his face both with dismay and wonder. He looked pale, and exhausted, and there was also some kind of solemn, morose emotion frozen on his face, and the wrinkles on his forehead seemed to form a permanent frown. His eyes looked at her absently, as if he really was not there, and yet they glistened strangely, giving him the appearance of ghost. A terrifying ghost. A terrifyingly sorrowful ghost.

"Nothin'", he answered hollowly, turned around, and walked away. Gibbs had promised to get all the supplies, so there was really no reason for him to be there. For a moment he had thought that getting a drink would be a good idea, but then again he could as well get drunk on the _Black Pearl_, alone, and without all those people around. All those _living_ people around. As he did not even fit here anymore. He was dead. He should not walk among the living. He did not live anymore. And maybe Gibbs had stopped him from killing his body, but he had not prevented his soul from dying. It had died. It was dead, and he was dead. The world was dead, at least for him, the world was dead, and he did not belong anywhere anymore.

Deep in thought, he almost did not notice, when somebody began dragging him into the opposite direction. But before he managed to protest, a hand covered his mouth, silencing him.

"You need a drink", stated Scarlett decidedly, and smiled.

* * *

The _Brave Bravado _was a fine tavern, unlike the taverns that Will had briefly seen in Tortuga. It was spacial, not very crowded, and strikingly clean. Few people smoked, some people drank, but the only sounds resounding in the well-lit room were the sounds of people talking, or people laughing. Nobody screamed, or argued, and there was no fight about to break at any moment.

Will sat at one of the larger tables among several men, and tried to enjoy the beautiful, Sunday afternoon, friendly company, and the realization that, in fact, his dream, the greatest dream of his life was coming true. He had Elizabeth for his wife, they had settled down in a quiet, lovely village, in a comfortable house. He was going to open a blacksmith shop here, and she was going to stay at home, and take care of the house. They were going to have a perfect life, and he would make sure that Elizabeth was very, very happy, even without... even without the sea, and the ship under her feet, and-

"And for you, Mr. Turner?", asked Mr. Roggson looking at Will with a smile. Will looked up, his train of thought suddenly interrupted. "What do you want to eat and drink?", hinted Mr. Roggson slightly amused by the distracted look on Will's face.

"Oh", Will smiled, and followed the direction of Mr. Roggson's gaze, which shifted from him to somebody standing beside the table. Will turned his head, and met the most blue eyes that he had ever seen. _The most blue eyes_, an awkward expression echoed in his head.

The girl smiled, and tucked a strand of her blond hair behind her ear, holding an empty tray in her other hand.

Will ordered something, neither really knowing nor caring what he was ordering. He was still preoccupied by his own musings, and yet there was something in the barmaid's face that struck him as familiar. He was almost certain that he had seen her somewhere, only he could not remember when and where.

The girl nodded and smiled taking his order, but the longer he looked at her, the more faint her smile was becoming, until her mouth twitched, and her smile vanished completely, and Will noticed, not without bafflement, that she paled quite suddenly. When he was done ordering, she hurriedly walked away, almost tripping over her own feet. Will blinked, and followed her with his gaze, still wondering where he had seen her before...

* * *

"I laughed at her", said Scarlett with a small ironic smile, taking a sip from her glass. "I told 'er that there's no way of quittin' an' just startin' a new life like that", she raised her hand, making a clicking sound with her fingers to emphasize her point. "But she said that she'll, that it's what she always wanted to do, that she wants to change everythin'", Scarlett snorted. "I don't even know where she had the money from", she added after a pause, knitting her eyebrows. "She couldn't have saved that much."

Jack looked up from his mug for a moment, but did not say anything. He was sitting with his head resting in his hands, his elbows propped on the table, his eyes fixed on the rum. He was not even sure that he was thinking about anything. Half-listening to Scarlett purposeless monologue, half-sleeping, his mind was replaying some soundless scenes in his imagination, throwing at him the shreds of certain days and nights, of some unfinished images, and mute sentences. He was floating among all those thoughts, wishing to drown in them, but somehow he could not drown, no matter how much he wanted to he could not, so he just looked at all those shattered dreams and thoughts engulfing him, trying to carve every and each one of them into the memory of his heart. Which was not necessary. Because all of them were already there.

"I told 'er she won't last, she won't stand that kind of life, an' then she actually got mad at me", Scarlett continued, not seeming to be very much concerned if Jack was listening or not. Partly because she just wanted to talk to somebody who at least looked as if he was listening, and partly because she believed that listening to someone, if only not very intently, is the best medicine for any sorrow. "She asked me who do I think she is", Scarlett shrugged. "An' whether I think that she doesn't want, like everybody else, to just have a life, a normal life. She said that nobody chooses to have a life like that", she paused, and bit the rim of her glass, narrowing her eyes, and for a moment staring pensively into the distance. "So she went", Scarlett started again. "She actually writes letters to me", she said with a hint of pride in her voice. "People ain't really gettin' any letters here. Except for me now", she smiled to herself. "She goes to some old lady in some other village who helps her write the letters, an' then she goes to some other town to send them. She can't send them from where she lives, 'cause she doesn't want anybody to know that she writes letters to Tortuga", she explained with a sigh, tilting her head to the side, her red hair falling over her bare shoulder. "She works in a tavern. But not this kind of filthy place", she waved her hand around in the air, pursing her lips in condescension. "In a decent kind of tavern, where people are nice, and call her _Miss Giselle_", Scarlett giggled, and took a sip of her drink. "Only the name of the village is stupid", said Scarlett after a pause, grimacing. "Maldream."

Jack slowly pushed his mug of rum away. He did not feel like drinking. He wanted to get drunk, and yet, he did not want to drink at all.

"_Mal_dream. Isn't that stupid? To live in a _bad_ dream?", asked Scarlett, without directing her question to anybody in particular.

"Aren't we all", whispered Jack, grabbing his hat that had been lying on the table, and putting it on. Scarlett looked at him hesitantly. "Aren't we all livin' in a bad dream?", he glanced at her blankly, staggering to his feet.

"More in a fairy tale", she said with a bitter smile, standing up as well.

Jack raised his eyebrows tiredly, giving her a questioning look. Scarlett snorted. "My grandmother used to say so. That we're all livin' in a fairy tale, an' that everythin' comes to us when it is the right time for certain things to come. Everythin' we need, all we need to know is always given to us, said to us, only we're to blind to see it right away."

"Is yer grandmother dead?", asked Jack in a low voice.

"No", answered Scarlett, squinting.

"So don't make 'er sad. Don't tell her that it's a lie", he said morosely, nodded a good-bye, and went away.

"Is it", whispered Scarlett uncertainly, watching him walk away. After a while she shrugged her shoulders, finished her drink, and left the tavern as well.

* * *

"I'm afraid I will have to go", said Will with an apologetic smile, breaking into a joyful flow of the conversation. "I don't want to be leaving Elizabeth, my wife alone for too long."

"Oh, of course", agreed Mr. Roggson immediately, joined by several other voices.

"Do pass the wishes of health to your wife, Mr. Turner", said Mr. Grant with a warm smile.

"I shall. Thank you", said Will with a smile, rising to his feet.

"And tomorrow we'll meet at Mr. Hummings' place?", asked one of the younger men sitting at the table.

"It's not Mr. Hummings' place anymore", cut in Mr. Roggson. "It will be Mr. Turner's blacksmith shop", he said smilingly, winking at Will.

"That's what I meant", said younger man defensively with a chuckle.

"Yes, tomorrow", nodded Will.

"See you then, lad", smiled Mr. Roggson, giving Will a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Will said his good-bye to everybody, and left the _Brave Bravado _in a rather optimistic mood. Tomorrow they would start renovating the old tavern, and he hoped that within a week it should be ready, and maybe even next Sunday he would be able to hang a _Blacksmith_ sign above the door already. He smiled to himself. Everything was going well. If only Elizabeth would start feeling better, would start feeling happy...

"Sir!", a loud, female voice stopped Will in his tracks, in the middle of the road leading from the tavern to his house. He turned around, and to his surprise he saw the barmaid, the girl with the blond hair running after him. She finally caught up with him, the strands of her long hair escaping from the hairnet which was keeping her hair in place. "I'm sorry, I-I just wanted...", she stammered, her breath ragged from running.

"Yes?", Will looked at her, puzzled, his bafflement increasing when the girl produced a small bag from her dress pocket, and began putting it in his hands. "What is it?", he asked, slightly taken aback by the situation.

"That's all I have", said the girl in a quivering voice, looking at him with her blue, glassy eyes. "Please, don't tell them, please, just don't tell them, please."

Will blinked, and wrinkled his forehead, staring at the girl in bewilderment, trying to understand what she was talking about. "I'm sorry, but... I don't understand", he said hesitantly, pressing the little bag back into her hands.

"Please", she breathed, the tears welling up in her eyes, as she tried to give him the bag once again. Something jingled inside, and Will half-consciously acknowledged that it was probably money that was in the bag. "Just don't tell them. I swear... I really... I... I just came here three months ago... I never was that happy before... Please...", she accidentally dug her nails in his palm, trying to keep him from giving the coins back to her.

Will stared at her dumbfounded, noticing with further astonishment that her hands were shaking, and that she actually began to cry.

"I don't have enough strength or money to start all over again in yet another place. If I'll have to leave, I'll have to go back", she said, wincing, the tears streaming down her cheeks. "Please, don't tell them."

"I am really sorry", Will managed finally to interrupt her. "But I really don't know what you're talking about. Don't tell what? Don't tell whom? I don't understand", he gave the bag back to her, closing her hand around it decidedly, and then reached to his pocket, producing a handkerchief out of it. "Here", he handed the handkerchief to her, but she did not take it, and just stared at him wide-eyed, her blue eyes shimmering with tears. Will looked at her uncertainly for a moment, and eventually awkwardly brushed the tears away from her face with his handkerchief himself.

"I thought you recognized me", whispered the blond-haired girl, wrinkling her forehead, and studying Will's face intently. "You were staring at me, and I thought-"

"Recognize you?", Will put the handkerchief away, and knitted his eyebrows. "Yes, I mean... I thought... I think we've met before, but I...", he paused, not sure if that was a polite thing to say. "I don't really remember where or when."

The girl blinked. And then it dawned on Will, and he suddenly remembered where he had seen her. Tortuga. He had seen her in Tortuga, but she had looked differently then. Now, in a plain green dress, and without any paint on her face, she looked different. But her hair, and her blue eyes were the same, and he had to admit that even though he had thought her pretty when he had seen her briefly in Tortuga twice, now, without all those artificial embellishments, she was actually beautiful.

"Oh", she whispered, averting her eyes from him.

"Wait, I...", Will started hesitantly. "I think I remember now, actually..."

She darted her eyes to him, and he noticed that she was not crying anymore, although her eyes were still glassy.

"Tortuga, right?", he asked quietly, as if expecting that the words would scare her. And expecting correctly.

She gasped, and grimaced, a glimpse of anger flashing in her eyes, as she was probably scolding herself for her own thoughtlessness, and for actually reminding him herself of something that she wished he did not remember. "Yes", she whispered. "But please", she renewed her attempts to give Will the little bag. "Don't-"

Will gently pushed her hands with the bag away, and looked at her seriously. "I was not", he sighed. "I _am not _going to tell anybody anything. It didn't even cross my mind. Please, stop", he said with a small smile, resisting her yet another effort to give him the bag. "I'm a blacksmith, not a blackmailer", he said, smiling faintly.

She slowly withdrew her hands with the bag, but still looked at him suspiciously.

"I started a new life too", he said pensively, looking away. "Let's just forget about the past", he added, shifting his eyes back to her, and giving her a cautious smile.

She looked at him for a moment in silence, as if trying to evaluate his sincerity. At last she put the bag away, and nodded.

Will smiled. "I'm Will", he said, extending his hand. "Will Turner."

She looked at his hand, and then at his face. "Giselle", she whispered, slowly lifting her hand. "Giselle Hope."

"A wonderful name to have", said Will with a smile, when they shook hands.

"Really? I never liked it", said Giselle with a shrug.

"Why?", asked Will, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know, I just didn't. It always sounded kind of... ironic", she said in a low voice, looking away, and brushing the loose locks of her hair behind her ear.

"Now it doesn't", observed Will, and she shifted her eyes to him. He smiled, and after a while she smiled as well.

"I guess so", she whispered. "And I'm sorry for...", she rolled her eyes, and smiled.

"That's alright", Will smiled reassuringly.

"Thank you", said Giselle in a serious tone of voice. "Have a good evening. Good bye."

"And you too, good bye", said Will with a smile.

Giselle nodded, spun around, and ran back toward the _Brave Bravado_.

* * *

Jack sat at his desk in the _Black Pearl_'s Captain's Quarters, with his head in his hands, staring at the map before him. At the map, and at the compass that was lying on the map; closed. He had not even thought about opening it before, and even now he still did not feel like opening it. What was he going to see there? Where would it point? Would it point to World's End which was where he was going anyway, or would it spin wildly, around and around, pointing everywhere, pointing nowhere... Because it was where she was. She was nowhere, and yet she was everywhere. Everywhere around him, everywhere within him. Everywhere.

His eyes shifted to the trunks still standing in the cabin right where they had stood before. The trunks with her clothes, with the clothes that he had bought for her, and most of them she had not even worn, not even once.

He remembered her in Tortuga, he remembered every moment, every gesture, he remembered when she had woken up, he remembered how they had been walking around Tortuga, how he had shown her the _Black Pearl _for the first time, how she had kissed him... How they had set sail, how they had traded the rings, how they had climbed up to the crow's nest, how she had told him that she loved him...

His vision became blurred, and he closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth. Was it finally the punishment? His punishment? But for what? Those lies had been forgiven. She had been happy, they had been happy, they had been so happy together...

He opened the drawer in his desk, took out the marriage papers, and slowly unfolded them. Moving the compass to the side of the desk, he placed the marriage papers on the table, and stared at the written words, at their signatures... Pensively, he brushed his fingertips against her handwriting, feeling as if a cold hand was squeezing his heart in his chest, and he wanted to scream, and yet he could not scream, he did not know how to scream, he did not know anything...

Slowly, he leaned down and touched the rough paper surface with his lips. He kissed her name, and closed his eyes, before that ocean of flames that was welling up behind his eyelids would escape, and ruin the document. He shuddered, feeling everything inside him breaking, and shattering, his thoughts hurting him, every thought that flashed across his mind, every memory sending waves of numb pain through his body.

"_Be prepared that from this moment on I won't leave ye alone even for a blink of an eye."_

His own words floated to him, piercing his heart like sharp icicles, and his head slid down onto the desk, his forehead resting against the marriage papers.

He sat motionlessly for a while, before finally he staggered to his feet, and headed for the door, his coat's sleeve accidentally hitting the compass that was lying on the edge of the desk, causing it to fall to the floor.

But he left the cabin without even noticing it. Without noticing that the compass had opened, and the needle after a moment of spinning came to a stop, and pointed clearly in one, specific direction...

* * *

"Elizabeth?", called Will hesitantly, walking through the house. The kitchen was empty, as well as all the rooms downstairs. He climbed up the stairs, and stopped by the door to Elizabeth's bedroom. He knocked, but nobody answered, so he cautiously pushed the door open, and walked in. "Elizabeth", he smiled faintly, noticing her sitting on the edge of the bed. She lifted her eyes to him. "How are you?", he asked quietly.

"Can you help me?", asked Elizabeth unsmilingly, in an exhausted tone of voice, without looking at him.

"Of course", Will quickly sat on the bed next to her. "What do you need help with, Eliz-", he trailed off, when she lifted her hand, and looked at him.

"Can you help me with that? I can't take it off", said Elizabeth, pointing to the bracelet. "Can you help me take it off?"

Will blinked.


	72. Chapter 72

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews:)**_

_**...& Merry Christmas everyone!!!!!!!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 72**

The room was dark, but through the open window the light breeze and fluorescent moonlight were flowing into the room casting strange shadows on the walls. The light of the moon seemed to shimmer, as if the wind could really control it, as if the light belonged to the wind.

Elizabeth could not sleep. She was lying on her side, looking pensively at the bracelet, and turning it around her wrist with her other hand.

"_Why would you like to take it off, Elizabeth?"_

"_Just to see how can I take it off. There is no lock! Do you know-"_

"_I don't know."_

"_How come?"_

"_I don't know, you always had it... I think it was your mother's..."_

* * *

Will sat on his bed in his room with his head in his hands, trying not to think about anything at least for a moment. He just wanted a moment of rest; a brief moment, long enough to let his mind recover. He could not even remember when was the last time when he had had a peaceful night of sleep... a night of peaceful sleep... when he was not cold, when he was not shaking... 

He cringed, and slowly opening his eyes, looked at his hands absently. When it had had ever come to this? When had it started? What was the first step that had led him to this?

What was his first lie?...

What was the first lie that he had missed? Was it all not just a lie? Was he not just trying to find other names for different lies, turning them into some quasi-truths for his own gain?

Gain. He snorted bitterly. Where was the gain? Any gain? They were here, together, and yet further away from each other than ever before. And even knowing that he was her husband, she was treating him with stubborn coldness, annoyance, even. He had the impression that he annoyed her. It was new. It was something that had never been before. And it hurt.

But maybe he deserved that. Especially now. After that lie, the first lie that he had actually noticed. When he had told her that that bracelet had belonged to her mother, and that he did not know how to take it off...

Which he did not know. Because there was no way of taking it off.

He took a deep breath and sighed.

It scared him that he had lied. But what scared him more, was how easy it was to lie. How easy it was to lie to her when what was at stake... was her.

"May I come in?"

Will jumped up off the bed, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. "Of course", he whispered after a moment of just staring at her, as if the sight of her was the most astonishing phenomenon ever.

And it was, in a way.

Elizabeth walked in, and closed the door behind her. Will watched her approaching with bated breath, nigh hypnotized by her sudden appearance. The room was almost completely dark, except for a candle that stood on the small table near the bed. Elizabeth sat down on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry", she whispered with a sigh.

Will slowly sat beside her. "What for?", he asked almost inaudibly.

Elizabeth shrugged her shoulders, her eyes fixed on her hands. "It's not your fault that I feel that way... It's not your fault that I've lost my memory..." Will's dug his nails into the bed, his hand slowly curling up into a fist. "And yet I behave as if it was your fault..." Elizabeth sighed again, still not looking at him. "I'm sorry."

Will looked at her intently, he looked at her profile so clearly visible in the moonlight, her hair glimmering faintly in the strange mixture of silver light of the moon, and gold light of the candle. He wanted to acknowledge her apology (_her apology!..._), but somehow he could not make himself utter even one single word. He had said too much. He had said too much already.

"It hurts", whispered Elizabeth after a pause, either ignoring, or not even noticing that he had kept silent. Will's mouth twitched. "It just hurts not to remember anything", she said, lifting her gaze, her eyes wandering absently around the darkened room. "I don't know why, but it hurts."

"I'm so sorry, Elizabeth", said Will in a hollow voice, shaking his head.

She bit her lower lip, and smiled brokenly. "That won't help", she said ruefully. "But I will try to put myself together."

Will closed his eyes for a moment, the sense of guilt slowly washing over his body, almost taking his breath away. "Don't worry about that", he said cautiously, opening his eyes, and suddenly meeting her gaze as she had at last turned her head to look at him. "Take your time", he added with a weak, reassuring smile.

Elizabeth nodded, and gave him a small smile. "I will see you tomorrow, then", she said, rising to her feet.

"Maybe...", he stood up as well, the words just coming out of his mouth at a sudden impulse. "Maybe you could stay?", he asked under his breath, his heartbeat quickening. "I'm sorry", he added quickly, noticing a distant, half-surprised, half-fearful look in her eyes, and regretting his words immediately. "I didn't mean- I didn't- I just-", he trailed off, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "I just meant that you could stay... with me... and we could just... sleep-"

"I can't really sleep", cut in Elizabeth with a small, sheepish smile. "I will probably be tossing and turning all night long, and you won't be able to sleep, and you said that you will have a long day tomorrow, so-"

"Elizabeth", he interrupted her, and taking a step towards her took her hands in his. "It's alright. I understand."

She gave him a blank, but somewhat intent look with a hint of _"it is of no importance whether you understand or not"_ in it. "Good night", she said with a slightly artificial smile, and slipped her hands out of his grasp.

"Good night, Elizabeth", he whispered, fighting the urge to stop her, and ask her once again if she could possibly stay, just stay next to him, just be near, be close... Elizabeth smiled again, and turned around. "I love you", he said quietly, when she was already half-way through the door.

She stopped, glanced at him over her shoulder, and... smiled.

And left the room, leaving him alone, with his eyes fixed on the door, until several minutes later he at last slumped onto the bed again, and hid his face in his hands with a sigh.

* * *

Jack opened the door to his cabin, his coat soaking wet, and the rain dripping down from his dreadlocks. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to locate what he had come here for – his hat. The storm was picking up, and for the first time he did not really enjoyed it. Enjoyed it!... He did not even care. Neither the sunshine, nor the rain was making any difference in his mood. If there was such a thing as mood... Every next day day felt as empty as every previous one... All hours were the same, cold, and meaningless, and hurtful. He did not have a mood. He felt like a walking absence, and he was surprised every time when someone addressed him. How could they still be noticing him? How could they see him? He did not exist. 

His eyes swept over his desk, and he noticed his hat on top of one of his books that were piled in the corner of the table. Quickly, he went over to his desk, and leaning over it grabbed his hat, suddenly hearing a crunching noise under his feet.

He looked down, and cautiously removed one of his feet uncovering whatever he had accidentally crushed. He stood for a moment motionlessly, staring at the shattered object, feeling nothing except for a brief breeze of coldness that flew across his mind and his heart, not very noticeable against the overwhelming, constant, permanent coldness with which his body and soul had been filled since-

Jack bent down, and picked up his compass, the lid separated from the rest of the device already, the shield crushed, the needle broken into a half. He looked at it blankly, his face unmoving, his eyes unseeing.

So it was finally _really _broken. Like his life, like his heart, like everything else.

And it did not even matter, because he did not need it anymore. He did not want anything anymore. He just wanted to see her once again, and then die and hope that he could meet her in the afterlife. Unlikely... And if not, then just see her that one last time.

He cautiously placed the shattered compass on the desk, lifted his hand, and slowly ran his fingertips along the motionless needle, turning it so it would point to the marriage papers which were still splayed on the table.

_It will always point to you, 'Lizbeth._

He put his hat on, and left the Captain's Quarters slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

_Three weeks later_

Will sat at the table in the sunlit kitchen, waiting for Elizabeth, and following the unwritten custom that had developed itself without them ever discussing it. He had prepared the breakfast for them both, and waited for her, so they could eat together before he left for work.

Will's blacksmith shop opened two weeks ago. The building, with the help of several men from the village and their work being supervised by Mr. Roggson who had made sure that everything had been done properly and diligently, had been renovated very quickly. In little more than a week everything was ready, so on the next Sunday after their arrival to Maldream, during the traditional meeting in the _Brave Bravado _Will could announce the opening of his blacksmith shop on the following day.

During the week of renovating his new workplace, Will had been leaving home early in the morning, and returning when it was already dark outside, eating a meal during the day in the _Brave Bravado_. Yet, Elizabeth had never said a word, and he had worried that it was not because she was patient, or had not wanted to bother him with her complains... But he had rather suspected that she had not really cared, and maybe even worse, she was actually glad that he had been away from home for the most part of every day. And although she had begun behaving in a decidedly more friendly manner, it was still only a friendly manner, and nothing more than a friendly manner. She had been smiling, she had been listening to him, she had been even (rarely, but still) talking to him, and asking him questions about their past. And he had tried his best to tell her everything truthfully. He had been recounting the year, a very beautiful year when they had been engaged. And while telling her about their meetings, walks, and sword-fighting practices, he had wondered briefly why they had not got married earlier, why they had waited the entire year, only to have their wedding ruined by Beckett... by... Jack, in fact, because it was his fault that they had been entangled in all that what had happened later...

Jack. He had avoided his name and his person altogether successfully, even in his mind. He had not been thinking about him at all, except for one brief moment when it had crossed his mind that he must have felt shattered upon learning that Elizabeth was dead...

But it was only that one time during the entire week when he had ever thought about Jack Sparrow.

The second week brought some more sunshine both to Maldream itself and to his mind. Elizabeth had fulfilled her promise and had agreed to accompany him to the church on Sunday, "making an instant success", as Mr. Roggson had put it. Everybody was "most delighted to meet her", "overjoyed to see her in good health", and "hoping to be granted her presence more often from now on." And Will was relieved to notice that she had dealt with all that overwhelmingly cheerful welcoming really well. After all, she had had the experience with social life and its artificialities, and she had not seemed to have any trouble with finding herself among the people. Perhaps, even despite her memory loss, she had had less trouble with that than he.

They had spent that second Sunday in Maldream separately. He - in the _Brave Bravado _at the traditional men's gathering, and she - at Mr. and Mrs. Roggson's house, which was the place where the Sunday afternoon meetings of women were being held.

Unfortunately, unlike Will, who had rather thought that he was going to enjoy that local Sunday tradition, Elizabeth had disliked the meetings passionately from the very first Sunday. In the evening she had announced him that she was not going to attend those meetings anymore. Not ever. And although Will had had no intention of forcing her to do something that she disliked so much, he was still somehow uncomfortable with the idea. How would they have explained that? They could not have just said that the meetings were boring, that the topics of conversations were trivial, that the gossiping was irritating, and that new embroidery patterns had interested Elizabeth less than the last year's weather. So, after a brief discussion, they had agreed to blame Elizabeth's future absence during those assemblies on her poor health.

During the second week, when the blacksmith's shop had already opened, Will was coming home earlier, which had given him the opportunity to spend more time with Elizabeth. Yet, there was still that strange distance between them, which had kept Will away from any attempts to even kiss her after that one unfortunate kiss on the stairs at the very beginning of their stay in Maldream.

He had tried to enjoy what he had had. He had reveled in the simple pleasure of just looking at her and knowing that she was his wife, that she _had known _that she was his wife, that they were living in _their _house _together_, and he had had no doubt that sooner or later she would start treating him more warmly. During that second week he had even had an impression that he had irritated her _less_, and that she had even expressed quite sincere joy every late afternoon when he was coming back from work.

And toward the end of that week, he had gathered all of his courage and brushed his lips against hers while saying his good-night. And although she had tensed under his touch, she had not flinched, and he had spent an entire night thinking about that kiss, and planning on asking her in the morning to resign from having two separate bedrooms...

But in the morning he had abandoned that idea, suddenly considering it decidedly too far-fetched. She had merely allowed him to briefly kiss her. It was not even that she had kissed him back... Which she hadn't...

Once again, he had told himself to be patient.

The third Sunday had come, and it had felt almost as if they had been living in Maldream for a long time already. They had known everybody, they had talked to everybody. The atmosphere was truly wonderful, and Will had never felt happier than when he had sat in the church next to Elizabeth, thinking that all the people around them had known that they were Mr. and Mrs. Turner, that all those people had liked them, and had recognized them as a part of the village, as a rightful part of the community.

He had held Elizabeth's hand in his, enjoying her presence, enjoying her being with him. And when she had glanced at him and smiled every once in a while, his heart had raced, and suddenly all his actions had been losing their grimness, and he had not regretted a single thing he had done.

Slowly, he had been forgetting that a person called Jack Sparrow had ever existed, and even the face of the man was gradually fading away from his memory as well.

The third week had brought him a new hope. One morning, Elizabeth had come down to the kitchen and after saying her morning greeting, had kissed him on the cheek. He had stared at her, amazed, as she had sat down by the table, and she had even laughed briefly at his surprised facial expression.

But what Will had not noticed was the stillness of her eyes while she laughed. It was only a superficial laughter, it was the laughter that she had planned, it was the laughter that she had thought he had deserved to hear.

Over the past two weeks he had not done a single thing wrong, and she had watched with astonishment how patient he was with her, how he had never snapped back at her when she had snapped at him, how he had never given her an angry or impatient look. He truly was a wonderful person, a wonderful man who clearly loved her.

Loved her... The word 'love' was triggering so many strange emotions in her... There was no doubt that the word was meaningful. It was making her heart beat faster, and he had really felt _love_. She was sure that she had felt love, even thought she could not quite say that she loved him. It was very odd, and it had given her a lot of trouble as she had tried to analyze those strange feelings tangled within her, tangled in her mind, and in her heart. She had felt that she _loved_, she was certain that she loved, and yet she had not felt that it was him that she had loved... Well. Of course it was him, that was obvious, and she had known that. But somehow in her mind, in her soul she could not have connected the feeling with him, blaming it on her memory, on the lack of it... Perhaps it was just some trick of her mind, yet another trick, the greatest trick of all being her memory loss.

She had often wondered how it was possible to lose memory? How it was at all possible? Memory could not have just faded away or disappeared or fled.

Perhaps... it was still there... somewhere in her head... somewhere hidden. Maybe she should just concentrate... try to concentrate really hard, and then... and then she could remember...

And she had tried. She had concentrated, she had spent countless hours thinking about it, but to no avail. It was as if her past had been wiped clean, as if there was no connection between the present and the past. And she had just wished, when she was lying awake during her sleepless nights, that there was some connection, that she could have found some connection, some link between 'now' and 'then', some sign, that there really was 'then', that she had really had some past...

Yet she had never betrayed her thoughts to Will, had never told him how much it had really bothered her, how it had caused her physical pain that she could not have remembered anything.

And when he had looked at her he had just seen the more perfect with every passing day facade, which she was quickly and skillfully learning to build, the facade of gladness and acceptance, the facade of false facial expressions, fake gestures, and empty looks. And for him that facade was the reality. For him that facade was his dream come true.

Will sat in the kitchen pondering the past three weeks, and thinking of how well everything was going, and he could not help but smile remembering that each morning in the last few days she had always kissed him on the cheek upon entering the kitchen. And he smiled hearing her light footsteps on the stairs, awaiting the fifth kiss.

But the fifth kiss did not happen.

Elizabeth walked briskly into the kitchen, and slumped down in her chair without a single word. She looked tiredly around the table and grimaced.

"Good morning, Elizabeth", said Will with a cautious smile, trying to attract her attention.

She glanced at him, frowning slightly. He swallowed, wondering whether he had done something wrong. Lately...

"Good morning, Will", she answered after a pause, and a sigh, as if pronouncing those three words was a particularly tiresome task.

"Are you alright?", asked Will hesitantly, pouring the warm coffee for her.

Elizabeth watched him filling her cup, the frown still visible on her face.

"No...", she said slowly, still staring at the cup sternly. "Yes...", she whispered after a moment with her eyes still fixed on the steaming coffee.

"Are you sure?", Will studied her face curiously, slightly relieved that she did not seem to be upset with him, but rather just generally tired, perhaps? "Did you sleep well?", he asked, offering her a plate with cheese and meat.

Elizabeth glanced at the plate, and knitted her eyebrows. Then she glanced back at the coffee, and grimaced. Will stared at her puzzled.

"El-", he started, but then Elizabeth suddenly jumped up to her feet, and holding her hand over her mouth, ran out of the kitchen, and judging from the sound of the main door slamming shut, out of the house as well.

* * *

"Get some warm clothes", remarked Gibbs loudly on his way across the deck. 

Pintel and Ragetti jumped up startled by the sudden voice behind them. "Why?", they asked in unison.

Gibbs stopped in his tracks and rolled his eyes in exasperation. "We'll nearing the Frozen Sea", he explained, and walked away.

"Not again", grumbled Pintel, wincing.

Ragetti took out his eye, and polished it with the rim of his shirt. "I ain't like that waterfall...", he whispered tentatively.

Pintel's eyes widened. "I forgot 'bout _that_!", he exclaimed peevishly, and then groaned, and walked away mumbling curses under his breath.

* * *

"Elizabeth?", Will stopped abruptly on his way out of the house, running into Elizabeth who was just coming back in, looking paler than ever. "What's happened? Are you alright?" 

She nodded mutely, walking past him, and heading for the stairs. Will followed her, still bewildered, and still anxious.

Elizabeth opened the door ro her room, and went straight to the bowl of fresh water that sat on the cabinet. She washed her face, and dried it with a cloth which Will handed to her.

"Thank you", she said almost inaudibly, turned around, and climbed onto the bed, with an apparent intention of going to sleep again, even though it was morning and she had just woken up.

Will put the cloth away, uncertain as to what was going on, and what should he do.

"Have a nice day at work, Will", Elizabeth's quiet, but warm voice reached him, causing him to look back at her. She tucked the pillow under her head comfortably, and was lying on her side with her eyes closed. "I feel a bit sick today. I think I will just", she half-sighed, half-yawned, "sleep."

"Of course", Will answered quickly. "But... maybe we should call a doctor?", he offered hesitantly.

"No", she whispered, her lips barely moving as she spoke. "Don't worry. I'm fine, I must have just eaten something... I don't know... But it's nothing... Just a little, just a little sick... I feel... today..."

"Are you sure, Elizabeth? It's not a problem to call a doctor. Mr. Grant is a doctor, actually. And he lives not far-", he trailed off noticing with slight surprise that she had fallen asleep already. Maybe she had had a sleepless night? So it was good that she would get some sleep now.

He walked over to the bed, and gently stroked her hair. "I love you", he whispered, and left the room as noiselessly as possible.

* * *

"What's that?", asked Ragetti, squinting. 

"Looks like a ship on fire", said Pintel with a grimace, staring intently at the blurred shape before them.

"On fire? On the Frozen Sea?", chuckled Ragetti, receiving a poke into his side from Pintel. Ragetti rubbed his side, putting on a slightly hurt look.

"We're _not_ on the Frozen Sea _yet_!", said Pintel, rolling his eyes at Ragetti.

"Oh", acknowledged Ragetti, taking a thick blanket off his shoulders.

"But that would be funny if we were", observed Pintel with a chuckle, after a moment of consideration, for some reason pulling his blanket tighter around himself.

Having noticed that, Ragetti glanced at his own blanket hesitantly, and then wrapped it around himself again as well. "Aye", he nodded, the smile reappearing on his face. "Then the sea would melt."

Pintel looked at him with his eyebrows furrowed, but then smiled, as the words registered in his mind. "Then the sea would melt", he repeated with chuckle.

Ragetti nodded smilingly, but once again his smile vanished from his face as Pintel poked him for the second time, this time even harder than before.

"Wait!", exclaimed Pintel, narrowing his eyes.

"What?", asked Ragetti unhappily, rubbing his side.

"There must be some dead people on that ship", said Pintel, shifting his gaze from the burning ship to Ragetti.

Ragetti stopped rubbing his side, and turned his head to look at Pintel. They exchanged meaningful looks and complacent smirks, and then ran to report the possibility of coming across the _Flying Dutchman _earlier than everybody had expected, that is even before reaching World's End.

* * *

For the entire day in the shop, Will was thinking about Elizabeth and worrying about her after what had happened in the morning. Maybe Elizabeth was ill? Really ill. He had noticed that she had not been eating much, but he had not thought that the lack of appetite was a sign alarming enough to start worrying. But perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it was something serious. 

He closed the shop as soon as he could, and almost ran home, sighing with relief at the sight of Elizabeth sitting in the room downstairs, looking calm and not so pale. She smiled when she saw him.

"You're early", she said, putting away a book that she had been reading.

"I was worrying about you", said Will with a smile, sitting down next to her on the green settee.

Elizabeth smiled. "There's nothing to worry about. I told you-"

"I know", he cut in with a sheepish smile, lifting his hand to cup the side of her face. "But I was worrying nonetheless."

Elizabeth shook her head probably to indicate that it was really ridiculous of him to worry about that, although he had an impression that she had rather done that to shake his hand off her face. But perhaps he was just oversensitive.

"I just don't want anything bad happen to you", he said gently, bringing his face closer to hers.

"I know", replied Elizabeth with a forced smile, stiffening when he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer.

"_'Lizbeth..."_

The voice came as if out of nowhere, flashing across her mind unexpectedly. Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she froze. What was that? What was that voice that suddenly reverberated in her head? She felt hot shivers running up her spine, and she could not help but smile at the incredible realization that... she had just remembered something. Well, maybe not really remembered, but... It was a voice, and she had not remembered that voice, but it was not her voice, it was not Will's voice, it was a different voice, so it must have come from the past, so it must have been a memory, even though it was only a voice, only her name, only a word...

"_'Lizbeth..."_

Deep in thought, pondering the single word over and over again, she got so thoroughly distracted that she did not even notice the smile that was slowly forming on Will's lips, his eyes lightening as he watched Elizabeth smile at him. Or so he thought. She was smiling, and they were alone, so, obviously, it was him at whom she was smiling.

Cautiously, he leaned forward, and kissed her.

"_'Lizbeth..."_

And he could hardly believe when through his half-lidded eyes he saw her closing her eyes, and then his mind went almost completely blank, when she actually began kissing him back. His heart raced, and he tightened his embrace around her.

"Elizabeth...", he whispered, breaking the kiss just for a moment long enough to catch his breath. But then, before his lips descended on hers again, her eyes suddenly snapped open, and she stared at him wide-eyed, the look in her eyes reflecting some kind of strange fear, audible also in her voice, when she spoke.

"You said it wrong...", she whispered thoughtfully, in a sincerely surprised tone of voice.

Will blinked, the magic of the moment, the magic of the kiss that they had just shared slowly dispersing and fading away. "Wrong?", he asked tentatively.

Elizabeth knitted her eyebrows, staring pensively into the distance. But then her train of thought was apparently interrupted, when she suddenly put her hand to her forehead and grimaced.

"Elizabeth?", Will looked at her anxiously.

"Will, could you...", she gasped. "Could you bring me some water, I feel...", she trailed off, and closed her eyes.

"Of course", he breathed, quickly rose to his feet, and ran to the kitchen.

He poured the water into a small cup, and returned to the room, but the cup of water slid out of his hand at the sight.

"Elizabeth!", he exclaimed, terrified, falling onto his knees next to her.

She was lying on the floor, unconscious and very pale. "Elizabeth", he whispered, picking her up and placing her on the settee. "Elizabeth!"

* * *

"Sit down, lad", said Mr. Roggson gently, placing a hand on Will's shoulder. 

Mrs. Roggson smiled at Will. "She will be alright, don't worry", said the elder lady in a reassuring tone of voice.

When Will had run for help straight to Mr. Grant's house, Mr. and Mrs. Roggson happened to also be there at the moment, and of course, hearing the alarming news, they had followed the doctor and Will back to Will and Elizabeth's house.

Mr. Grant had told Will to carry Elizabeth to her bedroom, and now he was examining her for the last quarter of an hour, while Mr. and Mrs. Roggson were waiting with Will downstairs, trying to cheer him up.

"It takes so long", said Will, glancing towards the stairs worriedly.

"Well, it bodes well", stated Mr. Roggson decidedly. "You know doctors. They never spend much time on hopeless cases", he said, allowing himself a small smile.

"George, for heaven's sake", Mrs. Roggson shook her head disapprovingly.

Mr. Roggson smiled apologetically. "I just-", he started, but stopped at the sight of Mr. Grant coming down the stairs.

"How is she?", asked Will impatiently, running towards the doctor.

Mr. Grant smiled at him broadly, and tapped him on the shoulder. "Now, now, calm down, Mr. Turner. You gave us quite a scare", he said smilingly, shaking his head, and winking at Mr. and Mrs. Roggson.

Will stared at the doctor in bewilderment. "_I _gave you a scare?", he repeated disbelievingly.

"Yes. You", said Mr. Grant with a chuckle.

"Does it mean that Elizabeth is alright?", asked Will hopefully, slowly regaining his composure.

"Oh yes", nodded the doctor. "She is perfectly fine. She just needs to rest and eat more."

Will put his hands to his head, and sighed, overwhelmed with joy and relief. "Thank you, Mr. Grant, I-", started Will, but trailed off noticing a strangely amused grin on the doctor's face. "Is... anything wrong?", he asked uncertainly, not sure whether the doctor was laughing at him, for some reason, or perhaps there was something else that he was finding funny at the moment.

"Wrong? No", Mr. Grant smiled, and glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Roggson, who also looked at him questioningly. "Let me just", he paused, and then smiled again, "congratulate you."

Will's face twitched. "Congratulate me?", he echoed, baffled.

"Oh my goodness!", chirped Mrs. Roggson joyfully, apparently understanding the doctor's words better than Will, who just continued staring at Mr. Grant in confusion.

"Yes", confirmed the doctor with a smile. "Congratulate you. As I'm very happy to inform you that you are going to be a father, Mr. Turner."

Will stared at the doctor in silence, the doctor's beaming face, as well as the beaming faces of Mr. and Mrs. Roggson seeming to him almost surreal at the moment. They were saying some things to him yet, they were laughing, tapping him friendly on the shoulder, but he did not hear one single word. He did not hear anything. He just stood there, looking at them, his mind racing as he tried to understand what had just happened, how it could have ever happened...

And he could almost see that black-haired, dark-eyed child sneering at him already...


	73. Chapter 73

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the beautiful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Disney owns Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 73**

"It may take a tad bit of time 'fore they come to pick up the souls", said Gibbs, leaning over the railing, and looking at the burning ship intently. "Especially if they're busy somewhere else at the moment."

Jack was finally, after many sleepless nights, asleep, and Gibbs had decided not to wake him up. At least not until the _Flying Dutchman _would really appear.

"So many dead people there", observed Pintel grimly.

"Not even one survivor", added Ragetti in a low voice.

"Aye. The gunpowder must've exploded. Not an' easy thing to survive the fire", said Gibbs, and for a moment the three of them just watched the orange flames which were quickly consuming the ship. "Alright", said Gibbs after a pause. "Keep a watchful eye on it, an' if the _Dutchman _appears, tell me right away", he said with a sigh, and walked away.

* * *

At some point Will began to think, that they would never stop; that Mr. and Mrs. Roggson, along with Mr. Grant would never stop congratulating him, making friendly, jocular remarks about how much taken aback by the news he was, offering their help, advising him on what Elizabeth should eat, and saying many more other things which he did not hear, his own mind producing so many thoughts and images that he could hardly concentrate on anything else.

Luckily, at last, after what seemed to Will like eternity, they were gone. He closed the door behind them, and rested his forehead against the wooden frame, an artificial smile disappearing from his face. He sighed, and slowly walked back towards the room, stopping at the bottom of the stairs, and looking at the staircase hesitantly.

He knew he should go to her. Mr. Grant had said that she was conscious, and that he had told her the news. What he had not said was how she had reacted, and Will wondered what her reaction might have been.

Scolding himself inwardly, he still had to admit that he wished her not to be too happy about it. Not that it would change anything. Or help him. But at least he would not need to match her enthusiasm, although the chances that she was enthusiastic were slim, even if only for the fact that she was weak and did not feel too well.

Reluctantly, he climbed up the stairs, and opening the door to Elizabeth's bedroom, slowly walked inside... and sighed with relief finding her asleep.

He grabbed a piece of paper, and wrote a note which he put on the little table near her bed. He looked at her one more time, and left the room.

When the door closed, Elizabeth opened her eyes, and reached for the note.

"_Dear Elizabeth,_

_I had to go to the shop. I may be back late. I'm sorry._

_I'm very happy about the news._

_Will"_

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, leaned back still holding the note in her hands, and looking at it intently. She had thought that out of the two of them he would be the more happy one. But apparently, she was wrong.

She put the note away, turned on her side, and stared at the window. The only thing that she could see was the sky, the blue sky, blue like...

The ocean, like the sea.

She took a deep breath, and tucked the pillow under her head more comfortably. Doctor Grant had said that she needed fresh air, and he had advised her on taking long walks, and also on visiting the seaside, which was not too far away. And actually, as soon as he had suggested that, she felt that she would very much like to do that. In fact, she could hardly wait. She was excited at the very thought. The sea. The sea. She repeated the word in her head many times just to make sure that it really evoked some intense emotions in her.

She was happy with her progress. In the past month she had gathered quite a collection of words that thrilled her, that were giving her shivers, or that were simply making her feel happy: rum, husband, 'Lizbeth, black, bonfire, hat, bath, sea, and...

baby. Yes, the baby too. She smiled, snuggled her face into the pillow, and slowly drifted off to sleep, making a mental note to add 'baby' to her list of meaningful words, which she kept written down, and safely hid in one of her desk's drawers.

* * *

"Captain!"

Bill Turner turned away from several men that had been brought on board the _Flying Dutchman _from the burning merchant ship, and now were trying to comprehend the fact of being dead, which was always a sad process to watch. Not once had 'Bootstrap' encountered a person who would have believed that immediately.

"What is it?", asked Bill Turner, looking at his first mate questioningly.

"The ship on the starboard, captain. They're signalling they want to come aboard", explained the sailor with a slightly amused shrug, indicating the ridiculousness of somebody wanting to come on board the _Dutchman _on their own accord.

Bill Turner turned towards the starboard, and squinted, but then his face brightened. "It's the _Black Pearl_", he said with a smile. "Signal the permission."

* * *

Will peered into the _Brave Bravado_, and noticing that except for two man sitting in the corner and engaged in a heated discussion the tavern was empty, he walked inside, went to the furthest, and half-hidden behind a pillar table, sat down, and put his head in his hands with a sigh.

Initially, he had wanted to really go to his blacksmith shop, but then decided otherwise. The shop was too far, and he did not feel like walking that much right now. The _Brave Bravado _was the closest place to their house, and he had hoped that at that hour in the middle of the week there would not have been many people there. And he had been right, fortunately.

"Good evening, Will. What can I get you?"

Will slowly lifted his eyes. Giselle smiled, placing an empty tray under her arm. She had been seeing him almost every day now, because of his daily meals in the _Brave Bravado_, and for some reason she often found herself actually looking forward to seeing him.

"Whatever it is that horrible people drink", said Will tiredly, and rested his head on his elbow.

Giselle raised her eyebrows questioningly. "Whatever it is that people drink to become horrible, or whatever it is that horrible people drink to stop being horrible?", she asked with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Will shifted his eyes to her, and looked at her blankly. "Since the first one I do not need, and the second one does not exist, I think I will have... water", answered Will gloomily after a moment of silence.

"Water", repeated Giselle with a small smile, suppressing a chuckle. "If everybody who felt horrible would drink water, the world would be a very wonderful place indeed", she stated resolutely, then swirled around, and walked away.

Will followed her with his absent gaze, the images that were springing to his mind distracting him, and putting him in an even grimmer mood. He had been raised without a father, and for his entire childhood he had dreamt of having a father, and now he was going to do to somebody the very detested thing that life had done to him: he was going to take a father away from his child, or the other way around... It did not really matter... It felt horrible all the same...

And yet, it was not what felt most horrible. In fact, it was not even half as horrible as the fact that his life was falling apart, that his dream was falling into pieces, the debris drowning him in both guilt and regret. More in regret... and anger... and disappointment, and... sadness. And the memories, those memories that had just recently stopped haunting him, were now coming back to him with double force. Those memories, that he thought to be long forgotten, or at least not important anymore, were suddenly coming back to him, his mind replaying all those kisses that he had accidentally seen, all those smiles, the way in which _she_ had run to _him_ on that day on the _Black Pearl _when he had found out that she was there, and when she had not remembered him. But she had remembered Jack. Well, not really. But she had known him then, and she had run to _him_ for safety.

And just how stupid he had been!... Acupuncture, indeed. Will snorted bitterly. How could he have even ever believed that? Even for a moment? He should have known from the start, he should have taken her away immediately. _He wouldn't have let me. _Yes, he probably would not... He probably... had loved her, did love her... really... still... Still? Did he still? Even if he believed her to be dead?

Will shuddered inwardly, and gritted his teeth at the memory. Two years ago such a vicious idea would not have even crossed his mind, and if somebody would have told him that he would do such a thing... That he would lie like that...

And how much good did it even make him? They were living in Maldream for a month now. A month! Four weeks. Thirty long days, and she had merely started _tolerating _him.

And how much time had she spent with Jack in Tortuga? Seven days? Five days? And then how many days on the _Black Pearl _before he had come across them? A week? Less than that? Probably less. So they had spent less than two weeks together and within that time she had given herself to somebody whom she had thought to be not only _not _her husband, but also a total stranger. While now, _knowing _that she was Mrs. Elizabeth Turner she had merely kissed him on the cheek five- _four _times, and let him kiss her two- _one _(since for that first kiss she had almost pushed him down the stairs, he had seen that in her eyes then) time.

Will folded his arms on the table, and rested his head on them. He should stop analyzing all of that, counting all of that. It would not help in anything.

"_I just wonder... how long did it take for a stranger to bed you?"_

His own question returned to him, and he closed his eyes feeling a twinge of pain at the memory. At the memory of her answer...

"_You want to know how long did it take him? Infinitely longer that it would, if I remembered him!"_

... and at the memory of his reaction. He shut his eyes even tighter, a cold wave of guilt running through his mind when he remembered what followed that answer. He still could not forgive himself for doing _that_, for slapping her... He would have never done that again if he had a chance to turn back time... But that answer had just stung him so... It had stung him so much that for a moment he had lost control over himself.

Even though he had had a great amount of self-control. Now, that he thought about it... When he had seen her on the _Black Pearl_ for the first time, when she had walked out if _his _cabin in nothing but a blanket... And then when he had left his father to watch over her... he had returned in the morning only to find her sleeping with _him_ in one bed... Drunk or not, and whether they had done anything on that particular night it did not really matter... And then when he had walked into the Captain's Quarters and saw her in _his _shirt... And then...

"Here is your water." Will opened his eyes, and looked up abruptly. Giselle smiled, and put down the glass. "And your cheesecake", she added, placing a small plate in front of him on the table.

Will blinked, and wrinkled his forehead in exhaustion. "I didn't-"

"It always helps me", Giselle cut in. "I eat it when I feel sad."

Will smiled brokenly. "I'm afraid it won't help me. And I'm afraid I'm more than sad", he added darkly after a pause.

Giselle tilted her head to the side, and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. Then, after glancing around the room, and seeing only the two men who had been served already, she sat down at the table across from Will.

"I don't want to sound rude", she started resting her elbows on the table, and placing her head on top of her interlaced fingers, "but I think you're exaggerating. "

Will closed his hand around the glass, and looked at the water intently. "How can you know if I'm exaggerating?", he asked with a hint of impatience in his voice.

Giselle narrowed her eyes, and watched him for a moment as he took a cautious sip of his water. "Have you ever worked in a field for twelve hours only to drink a handful of water and eat a piece of dry meat, so dry that you couldn't even really chew it afterwards?", she asked in a strangely cold, but still calm tone of voice, a small, sad, ironic smile hovering over her lips. Will slowly lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. "Or have you ever felt so dirty that you washed yourself scouring your skin so hard that your blood washed over your skin along with water without you even feeling a thing?" Will's face twitched, and he wrinkled his forehead, looking at her with sudden concern, his mind slowly drifting away from his own thoughts, her grim words attracting his attention. She gave him a quick, sour smile. "Just because you had a bad day, it doesn't mean you know what it means to be _more than sad_", she said quietly, and swiftly rose to her feet.

"I'm sorry", he said quickly, before she swirled around to walk away.

"No", she shook her head. "_I _am sorry", said Giselle, darting her eyes to the floor. "I shouldn't-", she shook her head again, glancing at him from under her eyelashes, and averting her eyes very quickly, but not quickly enough for him not to notice the tears glistening in her eyes.

"No", he interrupted her. "Please, sit down. It's me who shouldn't", he said, looking at her intently. She hesitated for a moment, but then slowly sat down again. "You're right", Will went on. "You're probably right. But everyone judges his troubles against his own history, I suppose", he added, averting his eyes, and looking absently into the distance. "And mine has just ended, in a way", he said in a low voice.

"One story ends, another one begins", she said, attempting to smile if only slightly.

Will snorted under his breath, and shook his head. "A new beginning. Yes. Once I thought it is possible. But it seems that the past can always find a way to haunt you."

"It's not the past that haunts people", said Giselle, resting her head on her hands. "It's the guilt."

Will darted his eyes to her, and looked at her in silence for a moment. "That would explain a lot, actually", he said pensively.

Giselle smiled sadly. "But sometimes it's just not your guilt."

"Yes, sometimes it isn't", consented Will with a sigh. "But in my case it is my fault. And it's too late to change it. It's too late to fix it."

"It's never too late to fix things", said Giselle cautiously with a small smile. "Unless you don't really _want _them fixed."

Will slowly shifted his gaze from some unidentified point in the distance back to her.

Did he want the things fixed? Did he want them fixed indeed. Did he want to tell Elizabeth the truth? Did he want to go and find Jack and tell him the truth? Did he want his wish to never have been granted?

No. Despite everything... No.

Giselle smiled to herself and sighed. "Here you go. That's your answer", she said after a longer moment of silence.

"Why did you come here?", asked Will wishing to change the topic. "How did you choose this town? Why did you decide to change everything on that particular moment on which you decided to change it?"

Giselle crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned back in her chair. "I didn't. It just happened. One day it just happened", she said narrowing her eyes in a thoughtful smile.

"Things don't _just _happen", pointed out Will, thinking about how much his new beginning had cost, and still was costing him.

"Oh yes, they do", retorted Giselle with a chuckle. "Well", she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "At least sometimes they do. I always wanted to change everything, but I never felt strong enough, or brave enough, or I simply never had enough money to do that", she gave him a slightly strained smile. "And one day I was sick", she said after a pause, looking away. "It wasn't anything serious", she looked back at Will, and smiled. "Just a little fever, and an awful headache, but I felt really, really, _really_ bad", she said, and laughed briefly. Will propped his head on his arms, and looked at her, trying to focus exclusively on her story, and stop thinking, at least for a moment, about his own life. "And a friend came to visit me. I didn't want to see anybody, but I let him in, for some reason, and he came, and I don't know why, 'cause I had never behaved like that before, but on that day, maybe 'cause of that fever, I began shouting at him without any particular reason, really." Will raised his eyebrows in slight amusement. Giselle giggled, and nodded. "Yes, that was rather ridiculous. I don't even know why he didn't just walk out. But he didn't. He just sat there, and I was shouting, and crying, and screaming about how I hated my life, how I hated myself and everybody else, and how I felt like a slave entrapped in that filthy world without a way out, and how I always wanted to just have a beautiful little house, and...", she trailed off, hid her face in her hands, shook her head, and laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Anyway", she went on, lifting her head. "I got so tired of all that shouting that I finally fell asleep", she absently brushed some dust off the table, and tapped her fingers on the wooden surface. "And when I woke up there was a small bag on the table and a note: _Pack an' go right away. Good decisions sometimes change too fast._" Giselle propped her head on an elbow, and narrowed her eyes in a smile. "So I packed, took the bag, took my coat, closed the door, told a friend of mine that I'm going, heard that I'm crazy", she glanced at Will, and giggled, "and went away."

"Just... like that?", Will smiled hesitantly.

"Yes", Giselle nodded, and looked at him seriously. "There was an awful amount of money in that little bag", she said, smiling brightly.

Will smiled. "Well, it-"

"Congratulations, Mr. Turner!"

Will almost fell out of his chair when somebody tapped him strongly on the shoulder. Giselle stood up quickly, shooting Will a questioning look, but he did not even notice it, as his grim thoughts overwhelmed him once again at the sound of the word 'congratulations'.

"Thank you, Mr. Stevenson", said Will, forcing a smile, and rising to his feet to shake Mr. Stevenson's hand.

Giselle wanted to inquire as to the reason for the congratulations, but then she noticed several people who must have just come to the _Brave Bravado _while she was talking with Will, and now were waiting for her to receive their orders. So she just excused herself, and went away, leaving Will in the companion of Mr. Stevenson, noticing with some interest that while Mr. Stevenson was beaming, Will suddenly looked very depressed, and it crossed her mind that perhaps, after all, he truly might have been _more than sad_.

* * *

"Good to see ye!", said Bill Turner with a broad smile, shaking hands with Gibbs, who smiled at him half-heartedly.

Pintel wrinkled his forehead, while Ragetti blinked, both of them, having as little knowledge of savoir-vivre as they had, still finding 'Bootstrap''s cheerfulness rather awkward, to say the least...

"Aye", Gibbs nodded with a sigh, and fell silent.

Bill looked between morosely looking Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti, slightly puzzled by the grimness painted on their faces.

"Is anything wrong?", he decided to ask at last, a fairly bright smile still on his face. He really have almost every reason to be happy as of late. He was the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_, he was immortal, his son was freed from the curse, and he could still see him once in every ten years.

Gibbs' eyes widened, and he stared at Bill Turner's smiling face with bafflement. Pintel and Ragetti exchanged confused glances.

"Well", started Gibbs hesitantly. "We just were, actually, on our way to find ye", he explained in a low tone of voice.

"Really?", Bill Turner smiled again.

Pintel leaned toward Ragetti. "I think he got a bit...", he whispered, making a wavy gesture near his head with his hand, which did not escape Bill's attention, making him finally drop his smile.

"I hope nothing bad happened", said 'Bootstrap' cautiously, narrowing his eyes. "Is Will alright?", he asked quickly, suddenly struck by the frightening idea, that something might have happened to his son on land, and they had come to break some terrible news to him.

Gibbs blinked. "I guess so", he answered after a pause. "We haven't seen him since-", he swallowed. "But I guess he's fine", he added under his breath, finding it a tad bit inconsiderate of Bill to worry about Will (who was apparently well) right now...

Bill Turner sighed with relief. "Alright then", he smiled. "An' Jack? How is he?", Gibbs sighed, and was about to reply, when Bill added, "An' Elizabeth? How are they?"

Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti blinked almost in unison, staring at Bill Turner as if he had just grown three heads.

Bill shifted his bewildered gaze between them, but seeing that none of them spoke, at last he himself decided to remark: "I do hope that they're at least better that the three of ye look right now", he said with slight amusement, again receiving only blank stares in reply.

* * *

Will left Mr. Stevenson and the _Brave Bravado _as fast as he could, excusing himself by saying that he had to go back to Elizabeth, and he had just stopped in the tavern for a quick glass of water.

He walked out, and almost ran back to the house, hoping, nonetheless, that Elizabeth was still asleep. He was not ready to confront her yet. He needed more time to think, more time to deal with his thoughts and get used to those thoughts, and to the entire situation.

There was no doubt in his mind that he would raise that child as his own, trying not to think- Or at least trying not to focus on the thought that-

Still, it was so difficult, and his heart felt so heavy when he was thinking about it. And that bitter taste in his mouth, that bitterness coursing through his body, and across his mind, carrying his dream away like a black, merciless river...

He was so close, he was so close to living his fairy tale... Everything was so perfect... everything was going so well... Elizabeth had begun treating him better... And now, it all seemed like a cruel joke. His hopes had been ridiculed, and shattered, and he seemed like a fool to himself for ever believing that he could buy his happiness for such a low price: for a set of lies and a bit of insomnia.

_The price of a prize. _He vaguely remembered the Spirit of the Fountain of Youth mentioning something like that... A price indeed. A life-long price. The everlasting, personified sense of guilt.

Closing the door as noiselessly as he could, Will slowly climbed up the stairs, and quietly knocked on Elizabeth's bedroom door.

"You're back."

He froze, suddenly hearing her voice behind him. "Elizabeth", he whispered, turning around abruptly.

"I was in the kitchen. I didn't hear you walking in", she explained, draping her arms around herself, and looking at him with her eyes glimmering slightly, and he had an impression that there was a trace of challenge in her look, as if she had known something... as if she suspected that something was not right...

"I... I thought you're sleeping, I didn't want to- How are you?", he asked, suddenly abandoning his hazy explanations.

There was a glimpse of wariness in Elizabeth's eyes at that, which did not escape his attention. "I'm fine", she answered with a small smile, and he was not sure whether he had really heard, or rather only imagined a hint of irony in her voice.

They stood looking at each other in silence for a moment. "Good-night, then", said Elizabeth, at last breaking the silence, that small, strangely triumphant smile still hovering over her lips.

Will blinked, feeling that he should say something, that he should say something quickly, but to his utter frustration, his mind was blank. "Elizabeth", he managed to finally call her, when she was about to close the door to her room.

"Yes?", she asked in a perfectly polite tone of voice, looking at him questioningly.

"I'm... very happy", he said a bit too stiffly, almost choking on the words, but making an effort to smile as brightly as he could.

"Oh, I can certainly see that", replied Elizabeth with a quiet snort, shutting the door in his face.

* * *

Jack woke up with a nagging pain in his head. In his head, and everywhere else. Every inch of his body hurt, every train of thought dragged a chain of pain along with it, leaving him in a state of permanent mental torment and physical throe.

Slowly, he walked over to his desk, and sat down, only after a longer moment noticing that the _Black Pearl _seemed to be merely floating, and not sailing. Before, however, he had the time to ponder the realization, he heard an enormous noise, and a while later the Captain's Quarters door burst open, and dozens of the members of his crew suddenly stormed into his cabin, filling it almost completely.

Jack slowly lifted his eyes from his desk, and looked at the suddenly gathered crowd, narrowing his eyes in wearied annoyance. His eyes shifted between the people nigh absently, numb interest flickering faintly in his indifferent gaze.

He did not look half as himself. His eyes lost their glimmer, and his mouth was twisted into a sad, distant expression, his unshaved for many days face set into a motionless, pale mask.

"Yes?", he said blankly, not even moving a muscle in his face, as he slowly eyed the members of the crew that for some reason had just flooded his cabin. The word 'mutiny' flickered across his mind, but then he thought that if they were going to carry on a mutiny, they would not probably have those stupid grins on their faces right now, would they?

"Jack!" Gibbs' voice resounded somewhere in the crowd, as he tried to make his way across the spontaneous gathering. "Jack!"

"What is it?", asked Jack frowningly, furrowing his eyebrows in grim puzzlement.

"Jack!", Gibbs at last managed to get himself in front of Jack's desk, his face beaming with joy, his eyes shining brightly.

Gibbs waved his hand at somebody who was still trying to walk through the crowd, urging him to come quicker, and only then Jack noticed Bill Turner making his way towards him as well.

He quickly stood up, expecting that Gibbs had perhaps asked Bill Turner about making it possible for him to see Elizabeth for one last time, and he had agreed, although... although there was still something strikingly odd about Gibbs' overwhelmingly cheerful facial expression...

"Jack!", repeated Gibbs in a strangely solemn tone of voice, when 'Bootstrap', looking not even half as cheerful as Gibbs, and even more than that, looking rather thoroughly dismayed, eventually managed to stand next to Gibbs, and stared at Jack, apparently shocked by his changed appearance.

Jack darted his eyes between Gibbs and Bill Turner, his heartbeat suddenly quickening, the pain gone and replaced by fervent impatience to find out what was going on.

"Jack, I don't really know how to tell ye this, so I'll just say it", said Gibbs, smiling broadly.

"I'd appreciate that", muttered Jack, staring at Gibbs with almost palpable intensity.

Gibbs glanced at Bill Turner, then looked back at Jack, took a deep breath, smiled, and finally uttered the single most beautiful sentence that his Captain could have ever dreamt of hearing:

"Elizabeth is alive."

There was a loud noise caused by the crew's loud and cheerful shouting and hollering, which slowly quietened down, until the silence filled the room again.

Jack stood motionlessly, his hands on his desk, his eyes fixed on Gibbs, and for a moment Gibbs thought about repeating his announcement, as it seemed not to have quite reached Jack's mind...

Jack shifted his eyes to Bill Turner, who smiled at him weakly and nodded, and then looked back at Gibbs. Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but before he managed to repeat the news, Jack whispered huskily:

"Why-", after which he swallowed, coughed, and then started again, his voice very quiet, but very clear, as he slowly uttered one simple question: "Why is this bloody ship not movin'?"

Gibbs blinked, steadily returning Jack's piercing gaze, but then all of a sudden the meaning of Jack's words registered in his mind, and he jumped up, and turned to the crew:

"Back to yer stations!! Now!! Set sail!!"

Everybody in the cabin reacted to his words immediately, and the gathering chaotically, but quickly dispersed, the crew members running out of the Captain's Quarters in general enthusiasm of the moment, until the only people left in the cabin apart from Jack were Gibbs and Bill Turner.

Jack put his hands to his head, breathing heavily, his eyes suddenly not only glimmering, but shining, burning with fire, and for a longer while he just stood in one place, his mind spinning around, his thoughts racing, millions of different emotions flooding over him, as he tried to keep his balance and not to collapse to the floor in that overpowering maelstrom of complete shock and hysterical joy.

And when he finally had enough self-control, he lifted his gaze, and focusing it on Bill Turner, asked him in a cracking, raspy voice:

"Where is she?"

And seeing the sudden light in Jack's eyes, the almost terrifying change in his face that had taken place within seconds, seeing hope burning in his eyes, Bill Turner felt a cold twinge of painful remorse at the thought, that the only answer that he had to offer him at the moment was nothing more than a plain and hollow: I don't know.


	74. Chapter 74

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

_**&... Have all your dreams come true in the New Year!!!!!!! **_

Disclaimer: POTC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 74**

"I really don't know what to say, Jack" said Bill Turner with a sigh, resting his head in his hands, his eyes fixed on the table.

"Aye, it didn't even cross my mind that somethin' was not right", said Gibbs, shaking his head in astonishment, and taking a swig of his rum.

"Not right?", 'Bootstrap' shot him a gloomy look. "To invent such a story? That she'd been mutilated? An' killed? It's a horror", he added under his breath, closed his eyes, and sighed again.

"Desperate, the boy certainly was", observed Gibbs pensively.

Jack was sitting in a chair in the galley at the table with Gibbs and Bill Turner, not really paying attention to the conversation, but staring absently into the distance instead. All he could think of was that Elizabeth was not dead, that his wife, his Lizzie was alive, and that it was only a matter of time before he could see her again. And then he would take her in his arms, and never let go, not even for a moment. He would hold her, and hug her, and kiss her; kiss her lips, her cheeks, her forehead, her nose, her chin... he would hold her so close, as close as possible, allowing her just enough space so she could breath. But he would keep her pressed against him tightly, wrapping his arms around her, stroking her hair, and kissing incessantly for hours, for days, weeks, months, and years.

"So ye don't know anythin' of Barbossa either, aye?", asked Gibbs handing Bill another bottle of rum after he had emptied his first one, which had not taken him long, due to his grim mood caused by his son's actions.

"No. We did search the _Flying Dutchman_, but...", said 'Bootstrap' with a shrug.

Gibbs nodded. "We searched the _Pearl _too. Strange, isn't it?"

"Now that I think 'bout it", started Bill wrinkling his forehead. "It's more likely that he was on the _Dutchman_ after all. An' he might get off the ship in the same port in which I left", he paused, and ran his hand across his face tiredly, "Will and Elizabeth", he glanced at Jack, predicting correctly that the mentioning of her name will attract his attention.

Jack shifted his eyes to his interlocutors. "It's been mere five weeks", said Jack, shaking himself out of his reverie. "It's not a long time. Someone has to remember seein' them", said Jack, knitting his eyebrows, a hint of false self-reassurance audible in his voice.

"Aye", nodded Gibbs, trying to show more confidence that he felt.

They were heading to the port where five weeks ago Bill Turner had left Will with (not sleeping, as he had believed, but apparently unconscious) Elizabeth. It was the only trace which they had, as feeble as it was.

"We're goin' too slow", muttered Jack, leaping to his feet, and storming off the galley to take the helm.

"He looks more like himself now, but before we told him, God, I've never seen him like that", said Bill Turner in a low voice after Jack had left.

"Me too", consented Gibbs with a sigh. "Those five weeks were a nightmare, he was literally dyin'. There was less of 'im every day."

Bill hid his face in his hands. "What if we won't find them? What if-"

"Now he knows that she's alive, an' that's the most important thing", cut in Gibbs. "It may take some time to find 'er, but the world is only as big as it is, aye?", he smiled faintly, and raised his rum bottle.

"Aye, that'd be the truth", Bill smiled weakly. "I wonder... what Will told her?", he said thoughtfully after a moment of consideration.

"Same thing, I imagine", replied Gibbs, wrinkling his forehead. "That Jack's dead."

"That wouldn't guarantee her stayin' with him", observed Bill quietly.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders. "Well, no, it wouldn't. But what else could he tell her?"

'Bootstrap' shook his head not having any plausible answer to that question.

* * *

Will sat in the kitchen staring at the steaming coffee which he had prepared. Elizabeth was not coming down for breakfast. And he was not even surprised. He had expected she would not come after that look which she had given him last evening.

He waited few more minutes yet, and then stood up, and went to her.

He had to knock three times before she at last said 'come in' in a slightly annoyed tone of voice. He pressed the doorknob, feeling strangely nervous, although he knew exactly what he was going to say. He had been thinking about that for the entire night. He had slept maybe two hours, spending the rest of the time thinking, remembering, and analyzing. And not making any new discoveries, but merely torturing himself a little bit more with his memories concerning Jack and Elizabeth. But he had also come up with something that he hoped to be a suitable explanation of his yesterday's behaviour.

"Good morning, Elizabeth", he said in a low voice entering the room.

Elizabeth was sitting in front of a mirror, already dressed, occupied with brushing her hair. She did not even glance in his direction. "Good morning, Will", she greeted him tonelessly.

"I wanted to explain-", he started, but was immediately interrupted by Elizabeth who swiftly rose to her feet, and approached him quickly.

"Explain?", she raised her eyebrows.

He blinked, slightly taken aback by a hint of aggression in her voice. "Yes", he said quietly. "I wanted to tell you that I am very happy, and the only reason for my behaviour yesterday was that I was surprised", he said calmly, looking her steadily in the eyes.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. "And what is the reason of your behaviour today?", she asked, studying his face intently.

"Today?" Will wrinkled his forehead, confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand what-"

"Yesterday you were surprised", she broke in, her voice washing over him like a waterfall of icicles. "And today you are still surprised, I'm guessing, because your behaviour hasn't changed."

Will blinked, sincerely puzzled how she could judge his behaviour _today _based on one sentence that he had managed to utter so far. "I don't-", he started, but was once again interrupted.

"What is it?", asked Elizabeth, tapping the back of the hairbrush against the palm of her hand (impatiently? angrily? nervously?). "What is it that you're not telling me?"

Will's eyes widened. "What are you trying to say, Elizabeth?", he asked, his throat tightening.

"Me?", Elizabeth snorted, and averted her eyes for a moment. "Rather what are _you _trying _not _to say?", she looked at him intensely.

"You're trying to turn everything upside down", said Will after a moment of consideration, keeping his voice as calm as possible, although his mind was racing. She could not know anything, he knew she could not, and yet here she was cornering him, and he was almost falling into that unconsciously designed trap. Almost.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in a grimace.

Will swallowed. "You are trying to prove that I am doing something wrong to explain, to justify your attitude toward me", he said in the most resolute tone of voice he could muster, nigh impressed himself by his improvised ability to turn the tables.

Elizabeth's mouth twitched, and she looked at him irritatedly, keeping silent for a while. "And what is my attitude toward you?", she decided to ask at last, squeezing the hairbrush in her hand.

Will took a deep breath, uncertain whether it was the turn he had wanted the conversation to take. But at least it was better that allowing Elizabeth to build up her suspicions.

"None", he said with a shrug of his shoulders and a bitter half-smile.

"None?", Elizabeth arched an eyebrow folding her arms across her chest.

"None", repeated Will. "I could disappear in this very moment and you would neither care nor even notice", he said slowly, looking her seriously in the eyes.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I would notice", she protested quietly after a long pause.

Will smiled almost ironically. "But you wouldn't care, right?"

"I didn't say that", she snapped irately, the flash of guilt gone from her eyes. "But if you are suggesting that I don't behave like I was madly in love with you, I'm sorry to say that it is true that I'm not, although I don't know if it is just because I don't remember anything, or because your version of the past which you had presented to me, with us being happily married and insanely in love with each other is a bit of an exaggeration", she said in one breath, her voice clear and sharp as steel.

And it did cut through his heart as a weapon made of steel would. "You don't even try to love me, Elizabeth", he said in a low, sad voice, which made Elizabeth's heart clench.

Which was yet another reason why he annoyed her. The sense of guilt which he always managed to evoke in her somehow annoyed her to no end. Everything he did, the way he looked at her, the way he pronounced her name, the way he prepared breakfast, the way he smiled, the way he knocked on the door, and even his mere presence was making her feel guilty. And she hated that sense of guilt, about which she had a vague, intuitive feeling that she did not quite deserve it.

"_Try _to love you?", she echoed, suddenly struck by an idea. "Or remember that I do?"

Will's eyes widened for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. "Are you going to analyze my every syllable, Elizabeth? That will hardly lead us anywhere", he said, withholding her intent gaze.

"Then what do you want me to do?", she asked, taking a step towards him. "I tried, I... I am trying to remember, to feel something. Is it my fault that I don't? I didn't lose my memory on purpose!", she exclaimed, stomping her foot.

Will swallowed, her words making that gash that was his conscience now even more hurtful.

"How can you feel anything if you don't even let me kiss you?", he asked in a low voice after a pause.

Elizabeth shook her head with a sigh, brushed her hair behind her ears, and crossed her arms over her chest. "It wouldn't help. You just don't understand, do you? _First_, I would have to feel something, and only then-"

"You married me", he broke in, almost feeling the rain of that storm when she had said "I do", valid or not, falling over him.

Elizabeth closed her eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath. "I know." She opened her eyes, and looked at him sadly.

"Elizabeth, can you just...", he took a quick step forward, and pulled her into an embrace. "Can you just try-"

"Try what?", she interrupted him with a grimace, and he noticed the tears in her eyes, not sure why she was crying, not sure whether it was a good, or a bad sign. "I... I love...", she trailed off, and shook her head helplessly.

Will's eyes widened, and he looked at her anxiously, hope quickening his heartbeat. "Go on, Elizabeth. You love...?", he cupped the side of her face with his hand, but she brushed his hand away.

"I feel love", she said slowly, looking past him. "I just... don't know what or whom I love. I...", she focused back at him. "I don't know how can I explain it to you", Will smiled faintly to reassure her that he would try to understand; a twinge of cold, ill-boding feeling piercing through his heart. "I feel the feeling", she looked him deeply in the eyes, as if she hoped that it would help him understand something that she herself could barely comprehend. "But I can't attach it to anything." Will stiffened. "It's like...", Elizabeth went on, narrowing her eyes in an effort to put into words all those ethereal emotions that she had been experiencing. "It's like I was hanging on a rope, and then the rope vanished, but I'm still hanging on it. I can't see it, I don't remember it, but I just know that it's there, it must be, because if it wasn't I would fall, and I'm not falling, even though...", she stopped in mid-sentence, and bit her lip. "I'm sorry. It doesn't make any sense, I know."

And perhaps he should say that it did, but somehow he could not bring himself to do that. Cautiously, he pulled herself closer, resting her head on his chest. Sad and deep in thought, she did not protest, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, and closed his eyes, wishing that that one moment could last forever.

"I love you, Elizabeth", he whispered after a long moment of silence, holding his breath until she would say something, anything; but she kept silent. "I love you so much", he drew back a little, cupped her face in his face, and hurriedly pressed his lips against hers before she could push him away.

Elizabeth stiffened, but did not move. She did not want to hurt him. She knew it would hurt him if she pushed him away, so she just stood motionlessly, wishing that the kiss would end soon, and then he would just let her be. But, apparently, he was misunderstanding her tactfulness for acceptance, tightening his embrace around her, and moving his lips to her neck, and kissing her with growing fervency.

And suddenly she stopped feeling awkward. She did not feel awkward anymore, she did not feel merely awkward, but miserable, as if his touch caused her physical pain.

"Please, stop", she said in a quiet, but firm tone of voice, but it was either too quiet, or not too firm, because he did not stop.

His lips moved back to her lips, but before he kissed her again, she tilted her head backwards, and whispered: "You didn't hear a single word I said."

He looked at her wide-eyed, sincerely baffled, and Elizabeth freed herself from his embrace snorting sarcastically at his surprised facial expression.

She ran to the door, opened it, then stopped, and looked at the brush in her hand, which after a moment of consideration she threw behind her not even glancing over her shoulder to make sure that it was not going to hit him, which it almost did, and it would if Will did not take a swift step to the side.

He stared after her, listening to her light footsteps slowly fading away as she ran down the stairs, and he did not even move, not until he heard her opening the front door which slammed shut a moment later. He wanted to follow her, but stopped at the top of the stairs. Maybe she needed some time alone. Maybe he needed some time alone.

He snorted, and covered his face with his hands. As if they were both not alone throughout the time when they were together.

* * *

"She's... this height", said Pintel decidedly, pressing his forefinger to Ragetti's chin. "And she has brown hair-"

"Light brown hair", amended Ragetti expertly, trying not to move in order not to affect the demonstration of Elizabeth's height.

"An' she was in a white dress an'-", continued Pintel, still keeping his forefinger on Ragetti's chin.

"White nightdress", corrected Ragetti.

Pintel shot him an annoyed look. "_I _am doin' the describin'", he hissed through his gritted teeth, smiling between the words at the two young sailors to whom the display was directed.

The sailors exchanged doubtful glances with each other.

"She was with a man of...", Pintel moved his forefinger, and pressed it to Ragetti's wooden eye. One of the sailors winced, "this height, an' he had brown hair, an' he...", Pintel hesitated, and then looked at Ragetti. "What was Turner wearin'?"

Ragetti's real eye blinked. "I don't know", he said tentatively.

Pintel frowned. "The man was wearin'... some men clothes", he stated authoritatively. One of the sailors raised his eyebrows, the other wrinkled his forehead.

"Unless he was in disguise...", said Ragetti thoughtfully.

Pintel furrowed his brows. "Disguise?", he echoed somewhat disgustedly, and looked at Ragetti with a glimpse of annoyance in his eyes.

"Like us. On Isla de Muerta. When we were wearin' dresses an' all", elaborated Ragetti, receiving very odd looks from the two sailors.

Pintel seemed to consider this for a moment. "That's possible", he said at last with a hint of surprise in his voice, and then returned his attention to the sailors. "So have ye seen _anybody_ in a white dress?", he inquired, looking at them searchingly.

"White nightdress", Ragetti whispered almost inaudibly.

The sailors looked at each other hesitantly, and then shook their heads in unison.

Pintel rolled his eyes, and grumbled. "So why are ye bloody wastin' our time!", he shouted irritatedly, causing the two sailors to jump up, and ran away as fast as they could.

* * *

Elizabeth ran until she reached the _Brave Bravado_, which was the closest building on the way from her house to the centre of the village. Being almost out of breath, she walked into the tavern, and sat down at the nearest table, suddenly terrified that such a physical effort might have been a very bad idea in her state. She sat back in the chair, and closed her eyes, tilting her head backwards, and resting it against the wall which was behind her. She put her hand over her stomach protectively, and tried to steady her uneven breathing.

It was early in the morning, and the tavern was empty. Giselle came into the room from a back door, holding a broom in her hand, and singing quietly. She began sweeping the floor, only after several minutes accidentally noticing somebody sitting at the table near the front door, looking as if the person was going to faint.

"Is everything alright?", called Giselle concernedly, quickly approaching the table.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and lifted her head. "Yes", she said under her breath.

"You look pale", said Giselle, looking at her uncertainly. "I'll get you some water", she added, and ran back to the kitchen.

Elizabeth followed her absently with her gaze, and then closed her eyes again, propping her head on an elbow. She felt strangely weak, and the room seemed to be spinning a little as well...

Giselle came back very quickly, carrying a tray with not only water, but also a plate with some fruits and cheese. "I can make you some coffee if you want", she offered, taking the plate and the glass off the tray, and placing them in front of Elizabeth at the table.

"No!", Elizabeth almost shouted startling Giselle, who stopped in mid-action. "I'm sorry", Elizabeth shook her head. "I just can't stand the smell", she added in a low voice.

"I see", Giselle smiled, and put the tray at the adjacent table, sitting in a chair across from Elizabeth. "I think we've met once", she said after a pause.

Elizabeth cautiously took the glass of water in her hands, and glanced at Giselle. "Maldream Ladies' Sunday Meeting", she whispered with a hint of sarcasm in her voice, and took a sip of her water.

Giselle smiled. "Yes. Luckily, I wasn't there in a month", she said smilingly.

"Me too", replied Elizabeth, lowering the glass. "I was there only once."

"I don't go too often either. I have to work, that's a good excuse", Giselle giggled. "I think I was there four times altogether."

Elizabeth looked at Giselle and smiled. "I'm-"

"You're Mrs. Turner, Will's wife, I know", said Giselle smilingly.

"I'm Elizabeth", said Elizabeth sharply, slightly annoyed, and Giselle wondered whether it annoyed her that she had mentioned her husband's name. Some women were just as jealous as to actually mind that...

"Giselle Hope", said Giselle with a smile.

"Do you know how far is from here to the sea, Giselle?", asked Elizabeth, lifting the glass to her lips again.

"The sea", Giselle repeated slowly, narrowing her eyes in a moment of consideration. "Not too far. Two hours of fast walking, if I remember corre- I'm sorry", she trailed off, and looked at Elizabeth uncertainly.

"For what?", Elizabeth shot her an amused look, cold water clearing her mind if only a bit, and reducing the strange feeling of dizziness.

"For..." Giselle sighed, and rolled her eyes. "I mean I'm sorry about your memory", she said in a hesitant voice.

"Oh", Elizabeth put the glass away, and folded her hands in her lap. "Me too", she said looking at her hands, her eyes sweeping over the bracelet, and her wedding ring. "But we were talking about the sea", she said with a smile, shifting her eyes to Giselle.

"Yes, the sea", Giselle started again lively, regretting that she had even brought up that topic which was obviously a sad one for Elizabeth. "The coast is really beautiful. I walked there once, and-"

"You know how to get there?", cut in Elizabeth interestedly. Giselle nodded smilingly. "Could you tell me the way? I'd like to go there."

Giselle looked at her uncertainly. "Alone?"

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Does walking to, or looking at the sea require assistance?"

Giselle shook her head, and laughed briefly. "Well, no, I just-"

"I'd like to go there now", added Elizabeth tapping her fingers on the table, finding a strange satisfaction in the idea of going somewhere for the entire day without even leaving a note to Will.

"Now?", Giselle glanced at Elizabeth's feet uncertainly, and Elizabeth followed her gaze, suddenly noticing that she was wearing slippers.

_Bugger_, she thought irritatedly, and then her eyes suddenly widened. What kind of word was that?!

"I have an idea, Elizabeth", started Giselle after a pause, straightening up in her chair. "Tomorrow I have a day off, so... we could go there tomorrow together, if you'd like."

* * *

Jack gloomily thanked the three men who were sitting idly on the sand and staring out at the ocean. Unfortunately, they were only another group of people who were not recalling seeing Elizabeth or Will.

The crew had been sent to search around the town, to ask in every bar , every tavern, and every inn. Still, every time he ran across somebody from his crew, they had no better news than he had. There was no trace. Will and Elizabeth must have left that small port soon after leaving the _Flying Dutchman_, supposedly on some other ship that had happened to be in port at that particular day.

Jack decided to find the records of all the ships that had been docked there at that time. He walked quickly across the beach, kicking the sand with his boots as he walked.

A day ago he was dead yet, and there was nothing left for him, and then he would have given everything for just the hope to look at her for a moment, for the hope to just touch her hand... But now it would not be enough. Now that he had hope, he just wanted to find her, he wanted to find her already, right now, immediately. Even if he still merely believed in that miracle, that miracle that he was afraid to contemplate too much, because he feared that it might disappear like a dream, even though he knew that it was real, he knew that it was real, because he had been interrogating Bill Turner for several hours, half-senselessly asking him the same questions over and over again. But Bill was patient enough to repeat his answers as many times as he had been asked too. In fact, he had seemed to need to hear those answers many times himself, as he had wanted to collect all the pieces of the mystery, and put them together in order to convince himself that it was all true, and that his son had really done that, that Will had really lied to him, lied to Gibbs, lied to everybody, and kidnapped Elizabeth.

Kidnapped Elizabeth... That was the troublesome part.

Jack knitted his eyebrows, and walked with his eyes fixed on the ground. What had that treacherous dumbbell told Lizzie? That he was dead? Maybe. But how would he have explained taking her away from the _Black Pearl_? He might have made up some story involving Barbossa (hell knew where _that _ignoramus was) taking over the _Pearl _for example... And yet there was no reason Elizabeth should have stayed with him... Why should she? She would have never just stayed with the whelp only because Jack was dead. Which meant (and paradoxically it was not a very uplifting possibility, because it would complicate the already fairly complicated search), that she had run off from the whelp, and had gone somewhere on her own. It would have been something she might have done. Jack smirked. She was the Pirate King, so perhaps she could have gone to Shipwreck Island? That was, no doubt, a possibility worth checking.

Jack stopped in his tracks. Bill Turner had mentioned that she was asleep, or unconscious, rather. Now... why would that be? Had he knocked her unconscious as he had him? Jack groaned angrily, imagining how he would _explain _to that slimy amateurish liar why it was not a good idea to even _think _of touching _his wife _with his one, stupid, lying finger, not to mention knocking her unconscious.

What worried him was the sense of something else that he could not quite grasp. Will seemed to be acting according to some plan, and as stupid as such a plan must have been, it was more or less coherent, and – worst of all – he had to admit that it had worked.

But what could that 'something else' be? He had to think about it a bit more yet, he had to analyze everything that had happened earlier, and then track that _unique_ line of reasoning.

* * *

Having realized that she had never actually seen much of Maldream, Elizabeth, after talking for some time with Giselle and agreeing on her to come and pick her up from her house on the next morning, she decided to walk around the village, and explore the neighbourhood, although there was really not much to explore. She wondered how Port Royal of which she had heard from Will looked like. She wondered how London, in comparison, looked like. She could not remember any of those places.

She wanted to buy some food on her way home, but realized that she had no money, which led her to the realization that, in fact, she had never have any money. Will was always buying everything, and of course he had asked her to do that, and it was her who had declined, but still it had only concerned some grocery shopping, and it had apparently never crossed his mind that she might have wanted to just buy _something _for herself, something that was neither essential, nor necessary.

Elizabeth huffed in annoyance, and walked past the church. Then she stopped, turned around and walked inside the empty building. The church looked different than it did during the masses. It was peaceful, and quiet, and nicely cool. She sat in the last row, and slid down to her knees, closed her eyes, and prayed in silence for some time, until she heard a jingling sound. Her eyes fluttered open, and she quickly located the source of the noise.

"I'm sorry", said the minister, picking up the candelabra that he had dropped. "Please, do not disturb yourself, Mrs. Turner. It's always very rewarding to see somebody in the church when there is no mass", he said with a smile.

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes fixed on the candelabra. _Candelabra_, she repeated the word in her mind. _Add to the list._

"I like the church better when there is no mass", said Elizabeth slowly, making the sign of the cross, and rising to her feet.

The minister chuckled. "I do appreciate your frankness, Mrs.-"

"My name is Elizabeth", she cut in calmly, inwardly annoyed at the fact that everybody was using _his _last name when talking to her. She had her own name.

"Elizabeth", the minister nodded slightly, and smiled. "So what brings you here, Elizabeth?"

"Do people always come to the church _for_ something?", asked Elizabeth with a small smile, walking slowly towards the minister, and looking around the church, admiring the vitrages illuminated by the rays of the morning sun.

"Well, there is nothing wrong with that. 'Ask, and it will be given to you'", quoted the minister with a smile.

Elizabeth smiled back at him, and shifted her eyes to the altar. "I asked for a miracle", she whispered pensively. "I need a miracle", she added almost inaudibly.

"Miracles do happen", replied the minister in a firm tone of voice, so firm, that Elizabeth darted her eyes to him. "Just wait and see", he said with a warm smile, patted Elizabeth on the shoulder, and walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts, and her dreams.

* * *

"The _Quiet Thunder_", said a tall man, tapping his finger on the dirty, yellowed page of the book. "They were here for three days, an' left on that exact day."

"The _Quiet Thunder_", muttered Jack. "A merchant ship?"

"Aye. She be a merchant vessel", nodded the man, and yawned.

"Any other ships that week?", asked Jack, squinting, and trying to read the letters in the man's book upside down.

"Ah yes. On the next day we had four ships here", he said disinterestedly.

"Four ships?!", repeated Jack almost peevishly.

The man looked up. "Sometimes there's no ships, sometimes there's four ships", he explained, looking at Jack dully.

"Aye, aye", Jack rolled his eyes. "So I'd need all those ships' names, and possibly the way in which they were headed", he said with slight impatience.

The tall man leaned over the counter. "An' I need a reason to waste my time speakin' with ye, mate", he said with a small smirk.

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, reached to his pocket, and threw several coins on the counter. "An' now if we could stop wastin' _my_ time."

* * *

"Five ships?", repeated Gibbs with a grimace. "Still could be worse, I guess", he added with a reassuring smile. Jack stared past him, deep in thought. "So we have to track five ships with two ships, aye?", he said after a pause.

"Three ships", corrected Jack, shifting his eyes to him. Gibbs looked at Jack questioningly. "We can retrieve the _Empress_ from the Shipwreck Island", explained Jack with a slight twitch of his nose.

"Commandeer, ye mean?", Gibbs asked tentatively.

Jack tilted his head backwards, and looked at his first mate disapprovingly. "An' just why would I have to _commandeer me wife's _ship, Master Gibbs?"

Gibbs straightened up, and cleared his throat. "Aye, 'course", he smiled apologetically.

"But we'd have to commandeer two other ships", said Jack as an afterthought in a lighthearted tone of voice, walking away, and leaving Gibbs with not the happiest expression on his face.


	75. Chapter 75

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 75**

"Good morning", said Giselle with a smile, causing Will to stumble backwards in surprise.

"Good morning", he replied, slightly baffled by running into her on his own doorstep at such an early hour when he was just walking out of the house to go to work. "Come in", he said quickly, after staring at her in puzzlement for a moment.

Giselle smiled, and came in carrying a basket in one of her hands, and a coat and a blanket in the other. She put the basket down on the floor in the hall, straightened up, and looked around.

Will looked at her hesitantly, not really knowing what to make out of that early morning visit.

"Is Elizabeth ready?", Giselle asked at last, surprising him even more.

"Elizabeth?", Will blinked, and Giselle giggled at his dumbfounded facial expression.

"We're going to have a picnic", she said smilingly, uttering the word with a hint of pride in her voice. In fact, she had never been on a picnic, but every time she had heard the word she wanted to see what it was like. It sounded so carefree, so light, so happy, and so ordinary, that for some reason she always associated it with a simple, cheerful life that she had never had. At least not until now.

"A picnic?", echoed Will in a hesitant tone of voice, even though he was not particularly surprised that Elizabeth had not told him a word about it. Last evening she had not talked with him at all. When he had come back from the shop, she was already in her room, and she had not come out, and when he had knocked on her door, she had _called_ to him that she _was_ _asleep_.

"Yes", Giselle smiled uncertainly, beginning to understand the reason for the bewildered look on Will's face. Apparently, Elizabeth had forgotten to tell him about their planned trip to the sea.

"Good morning."

Will turned around at the sound of Elizabeth's voice. She was walking down the stairs, and the first thing that caught Will's attention (after he had shaken off his mind the memory of her walking down the stairs like that so long ago, in another world, in another life, in... Port Royal) was the coat flung over her arm. _His _coat.

"Good morning, I'm a bit early", said Giselle smilingly.

"That's alright", answered Elizabeth with a strained smile, slightly upset, because she had hoped that Will would have gone to his blacksmith shop before Giselle would have come, and then she would not have been forced to tell him where she was going. "We're going for a walk", she said glancing at Will, while brushing some more or less imaginary dust off the coat.

"To Black River?", asked Will, for some reason unable to tear his eyes off the coat.

"No. To the seacoast", replied Elizabeth blankly.

Giselle noticed, somewhat surprised, that Will slightly paled at that. "What for?", he asked in a low voice, at last shifting his eyes from Jack's coat to Elizabeth's face.

"For a walk", said Elizabeth plainly, looking him straight in the eyes. "I've taken your coat, I found it in the wardrobe", she added, changing her slippers for the shoes. "I couldn't find mine", she said kicking the slippers away. "I don't have one, I guess", she muttered so quietly, that Will more guessed the words than heard them.

"But-", started Will, not really knowing what to say, a cold shiver running down his spine as suddenly a chain of realizations dawned on him: Giselle knew Jack, and she could, if only by mere accident, mention the name of Jack Sparrow to Elizabeth, and even though he knew that it could not possibly trigger Elizabeth's memory, it was still something that he would rather avoid happening.

"Doctor Grant said that I should breath some fresh sea air", cut in Elizabeth, looking at Will intensely, as if daring him to object, as if she only waited for him to say something against her idea, so she could have a pretext to give him a sharp retort which she had, no doubt, prepared already.

Will took a deep breath, half-consciously realizing that he was hardly breathing during the conversation. "I see", he said, glancing at Giselle, a little embarrassed by the entire conversation taking place, and Elizabeth talking to him in what was almost a harsh manner in the presence of other people.

And it was too late to ask Giselle not to talk to Elizabeth about Jack, or Tortuga. And even if there was still time to do that, he was not sure if he would have actually asked her... It would have seemed suspicious, especially that he could not have given her a good explanation for his request.

"I will be back in the evening", said Elizabeth coldly, and then shifted her eyes to Giselle. "Let's go", she said with a faint smile.

Giselle glanced at Will with a glimpse of sympathy in her eyes, which he noticed, and it embarrassed him even more. "Yes, let's go", said Giselle with a small smile, picked up the basket, and followed Elizabeth who had already walked, or rather stormed off the house.

* * *

After the night at the helm, Jack retired to his cabin, not so much to get some rest, but rather to have a moment alone with his thoughts, and with no people in sight. He slumped into his chair at his desk, and looked unhappily at his _truly _broken compass. He would have gladly ordered himself to be flogged for that absolutely unforgivable case of clumsiness which had led to his compass becoming useless. 

He grabbed all the parts of the compass with irritation, and tried to fix it once again, but to no avail. He put it away, and propped his head on his elbow, staring at the marriage papers which he kept splayed on his desk, treating it like some kind of substitute for Elizabeth's portrait which he did not have. He should have one, even though he did not really need a portrait to be able to see her. He only needed to close his eyes, and then he could see her as clearly as if she was sitting on his lap, in his arms, her head resting against his shoulder...

Smiling to himself faintly, he brushed his hand across her name on their marriage papers. She was alive, she was somewhere in this world where he could reach her, where he could find her. He knew that it would take at least a month to find her.

A month if they were lucky. And many months if they weren't.

He narrowed his eyes, and reached for his rum bottle, slowly lifting it to his lips. Rum was not gone, and yet he felt as if it was, simply because it just tasted differently, it tasted... less, as if. There was something missing, something that used to make everything taste better, something that used to make everything else even capable of being the potential source of enjoyment... He vaguely remembered making that discovery some time ago already. He did not remember when. Was it during that storm through which they had sailed together? Or maybe later, when he had woken up to the sight of her lying in his arms for the first time, or maybe later yet when they had been sharing clandestine kisses while searching for some candelabra, a pretext good enough to keep them away for a few moments from an involuntary half-drunk guardian in the form of Bill Turner.

Smiling weakly at all those mingled memories, he took another swig from his bottle, looking absently at the marriage papers, lightly tapping his fingertips on the table. He could still remember how he had struggled with himself whether he should have told her the truth when she had lost her memory. How he had feared that she would not have agreed to sail away with him, how she would not have let herself fall in love... or accept that she was in love with him...

In love with him... He still felt strange thinking about it, as if he still could not believe that she really loved him. He knew she did, but it was just such a rare, such an unexpected, overpowering feeling that from time to time he doubted that it had really happened to him, that it _was happening _to him, that somewhere in this world there was that beautiful, wonderful girl who looked at him as if he was the eighth world's wonder, who would snuggle into him, and whisper some sweet words into his ear, some ridiculously, naively sweet words, and yet, according to her – all of them true. She would trace endless paths with her lips, kissing away whatever ghosts had ever been haunting him, kissing better all those scars that did not hurt anymore, kissing better all those memories behind them that hurt sometimes. She would cup his face in her delicate hands and smile at him, her hazel eyes glittering in the moonlight as much as in the sunlight, glittering because she was looking at him, because she was happy just looking at him much like he was happy looking at her... And he remembered that last night before she had disappeared, before she had been _killed _when they had just lie in each other's arms, staring at each other, planning not to sleep, and yet drifting off to sleep so carelessly as it turned out... He should have known it was too beautiful, too quiescent to last effortlessly, and do not anger whatever there was responsible in the universe for the obstacles being thrown in human ways exactly when and where they were least expected.

However, he had to admit that it worked the other way around as well. There were miracles falling from the sky every day and every night, and they were scattered all over the world's roads, some covered in dust, never noticed, some too shiny to be considered real, some disguised as ordinary words and images not investigated diligently enough. Even recently, in Tortuga he had heard something similar, something about everything that people needed being within one's reach, but remaining unnoticed.

Jack took the broken compass needle between his fingers, and turned it around. Perhaps he just needed to think harder, to look closer, perhaps there was a clue to be discovered even if one had but a broken needle at one's disposal. It was all just a riddle, after all, wasn't it? A series of riddles, a collection of word-plays, a card game with unwritten rules, that what the life was. And he was always good at games. And this game was the most important game of all. He just needed a few more cards, a glance at the opponent's deck, and some luck; and even if there was no luck... Because contrary to what people often thought he never just depended on luck. He was _creating _luck. He was creating chances when all the chances were gone. He was making up possibilities when there were no possibilities in sight. He was Captain Jack Sparrow. _That_ was the card that he always had up his sleeve.

And that was also the best card of all.

* * *

"It's beautiful", whispered Elizabeth with a gasp, after staring at the blue ocean in silence for a longer while. She did not know why, but the sight of the sea brought tears to her eyes, and although she was successfully keeping the tears from rolling down her cheeks, the teardrops that had welled up in her eyes were blurring her vision, and soon she was looking at the ocean through the vile of tears, hardly seeing anything apart from the shimmering blueness. 

"Yes", agreed Giselle, unfolding the blanket, and spreading it on the sand. "And the weather is beautiful today. And there's almost no wind. We didn't even need to bring those coats", she knelt on the blanket, and opened the basket.

Elizabeth stood on the sand with her bare feet, her shoes tossed to the side. She stood motionlessly, facing the sea, searching the horizon, as if she was expecting to see something there. But the horizon was empty, the sea was humming quietly, and sun shone with glittering indifference.

"I would rather live here", said Elizabeth, slowly turning away from the sea. "The landscape in Maldream is so...", she cautiously sat down on her heels, and sighed, "dry."

Giselle giggled. "Yes, that's true. I was living by the sea for some time, and I have to say that this is the one thing I really miss", she said taking a bottle of raspberry juice out of the basket.

"Where did you live before?", asked Elizabeth shifting her eyes to her interestedly.

Giselle glanced at her uncertainly, suddenly regretting making the remark. "Well, I was living on an island, so the sea was everywhere", she forced a smile.

"Why did you move?", asked Elizabeth, shrugging the coat off her shoulders.

"It's a long story", replied Giselle uncomfortably. She did not really want to talk about that. The only reason that she had told Will something about her past was because he had already know something about it... He knew that she had been living in Tortuga. But with Elizabeth it was different. She wanted to make friends with her, and although friends were supposed to be honest with each other, on the other hand, she was afraid that if she told her the truth about her past, she might not want to have anything to do with her.

"You're lucky", stated Elizabeth grimly, lifting the coat in front of her face, and folding it. Giselle shot her a questioning look. "I wish I had a long story to tell. But I have none. I have no story. No story at all", she said, folding the coat once again, and squinting as a small object fell out of the coat's pocket, and rolled on the blanket.

"I wish I had no story", said Giselle with a small smile. "Besides, you do have a story, Elizabeth. You just don't remember it", she added, taking out the last food item from the basket.

"Do you want to know what I think, Giselle?", said Elizabeth in a low voice, studying the ring that had fallen out of the coat's pocket. Giselle looked at Elizabeth smilingly and nodded. "I think I had an affair, and then I had that accident in which I lost my memory, and he took this opportunity to take me away, so we could start anew."

Giselle blinked, almost dropping the bottle that she was holding in her hands. She stared at Elizabeth with eyes wide from astonishment.

Elizabeth closed the ring in her hand, and gazed absently into the distance. She did not know why she was telling her most secret thoughts to somebody whom she barely knew, but she just needed to share her thoughts with somebody, to talk to somebody who would at least try to understand her.

"Why... why would you think that?", asked Giselle quietly after a pause, and looked at Elizabeth uncertainly. "He", she started, thinking that perhaps it would help if she said what her impression was. "He loves you. He always speaks of you with such a-"

"Yes, this is the part of the problem", cut in Elizabeth with a bitter smile, squeezing the ring in her hand. "And part of the evidence", she added glumly.

Giselle wrinkled her nose, and tilted her head to the side. "Evidence?"

"If he loves me he should be happy about the baby, and he is not, so...", she opened her hand, and looked at the green stone glittering in the sunlight.

"What baby?", interrupted Giselle uncertainly.

Elizabeth shifted her eyes to her. "I'm pregnant", she said with a small smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know", Giselle straightened up, and smiled, feeling a strange, abstract twinge of cold at the news. "Congratulations", she said sincerely, suddenly remembering Mr. Stevenson who had congratulated Will two days ago in the _Brave Bravado_. It must have been because of that. And as she remembered that, she also remembered the look on Will's face. He had not looked too happy indeed, to say the least...

"Thank you", Elizabeth smiled, and Giselle noticed that there was a glimpse of genuine joy in her eyes for the very first time during the trip. "I think", Elizabeth closed the ring in her hand again, "that he doesn't know if it is his child, and that's why he behaves that way", she said quietly, staring at her closed hand, and feeling the tears welling up in her eyes again. "Neither do I", she added almost inaudibly with a broken smile, which turned into a grimace, and she quickly lifted her head to blink back the tears.

Giselle looked at her worriedly, not finding anything fitting to say. She was rather taken aback by everything that Elizabeth had said. It had never crossed her mind that there was something wrong between Elizabeth and Will. From what she had seen, from seeing them a few times together from the distance, and from Will's behaviour, and how he had never talked about his wife without pronouncing her name in the most gentle and dedicated manner, there was not a doubt in Giselle mind that they loved each other, and that they were happy together. At least until two days ago when he had really looked quite troubled. But she knew that he loved his wife, and now all of a sudden hearing that on Elizabeth's side there was not as much (_if at all_, she thought with a strange flutter of her heart, which she tried to ignore) love as on Will's she felt sorry for him, and yet... and yet she felt strange when she thought about it, she felt strange, and she suddenly remembered how she had always found herself waiting for him to come to eat his daily meal in the _Brave Bravado_, and-

She quickly shook herself off her thoughts with a disapproving, inward snort. She wanted to start a new life, and dreaming about another woman's husband could hardly be a good starting point. Especially if the woman was really nice. ...And despite the fact that she apparently did not love her husb-

_Oh, stop it, Giselle, you're so stupid_, she scolded herself irritatedly.

Elizabeth stared at the sea, fiddling with the ring in her hand. The light breeze brushed the strands of her hair over her face, and she tugged the loose locks behind her ears gritting her teeth, and struggling not to cry. She felt trapped, and there was no way out. She was almost, _almost _sure that her suspicions were more or less correct, although... the pieces that she so desperately tried to put together did not fit too well somehow... Because if she had had an _affair_, then why did the word _husband _thrilled her in such a curious way?

She began to weave strange plans of going to Port Royal (if they had really lived there...) and trying to find out something more about the past than what Will had told her. She wanted to find the people who knew, who could tell her something about her, about her life... Yet, it would be rather ridiculous to travel all alone to a far away place, and ask people whether they knew her, and explain to them that she had lost her memory, and-

She sighed, and bit her lower lip. There was no way. There was no way to find out. She was trapped here, trapped in _his _version of _her _reality. But the inability to know, to know for sure, to know for certain if there was someone else, if there was another man, that inability hurt her. And she knew that the pain would not go away, unless she would find out the truth.

What if there really was someone else? Who was he? What was his name? Where did he live? Where was he now? Was he missing her? Was he looking for her? Did he care? Did he love her?

How did he look like?

Did he exist?...

She closed her eyes, and listened to the quiet droning of the waves, her mind slowly calming down, eased by the soft sound.

He did exist. He must exist. He must be... somewhere... And maybe someday he would come... If that abstract love that she felt belonged to him... he would come.

She smiled faintly, and hugged herself. It felt wonderful to be in love.

Even if you did not know whom you are in love with...

* * *

Jack listened patiently to the long speech made by an honestly looking (which was a bad sign in itself) young sailor dressed in fancy (another bad sign) clothes, his hand resting on the handle of his sword (not a good sign as well). Not to mention that he had expected to come across somebody else, as he vaguely remembered that Elizabeth's first mate had been a former Sao Feng's guards' captain, who had left a rather favorable impression upon him in the Locker: 

_"And where do your allegiances lie?"_

_"With the highest bidder."_

_"I have a ship."_

_"That makes you the highest bidder."_

But, apparently, the young Chinese pirate in front of him had a more _archaic_ approach to business matters.

Gibbs was not sure whether everything was going well, but judging from Jack's smiling face, he figured that there was no reason to fret, so he also stood looking at Elizabeth's first mate smilingly.

"I am very sorry", the young man finished, and lightly bowed his head. "But these are my orders. I've been left in charge of the _Empress_, and it is beyond the scope of my own actions to let anybody take over the ship. For whatever reasons", he added pointedly.

Jack flashed him a smile, and cleared his throat. "Son", he started, taking a step towards the young pirate, who glanced at him suspiciously. "I may assure ye that yer diligent dutifulness will not go unappreciated, if only by me personal effort to make them known to yer Captain, however there was one grievous mistake that ye happened to make in yer otherwise most impressively impeccable speech."

Elizabeth's first mate raised his eyebrows, and looked at Jack doubtfully.

Jack smiled. "Ye said the ship belongs to Captain Swann, an' that, ye see, is incorrect", he said complacently, making a wavy gesture with his hand.

The young sailor straightened up, and narrowed his eyes, looking past Jack. "If my _mistake_", he said, stressing the word to apparently underline its obvious inadequacy, "lies in the use of the title _Captain_ instead of the _King_, please do consider that King Swann doesn't take offence if addressed as Captain, and I know it from Captain Swann herself", he said haughtily, and shifted his eyes back to Jack.

_Where the hell did ye find that idiot, Lizzie?!_, thought Jack irritatedly, smiling brightly at the young man. "That was not _the_ mistake I had in mind. In fact, it was rather the name, and not the title that was incorrect, 'cause", he continued, before Elizabeth's first mate managed to interrupt him. " It's not Captain Swann the Pirate King, but Captain... _Sparrow_, the Pirate King", said Jack, grinning, but seeing a still unimpressed facial expression on the young pirate's face, he pulled out a paper out from under his coat, unfurled it, and waved it lightly in front of the man's face. "I'm sure ye wouldn't wish yer Captain to be informed that ye denied _her husband _her ship, aye?"

Elizabeth's first mate glanced at Gibbs who mutely listened to the conversation, a cheerful smile painted on his face. The Chinese pirate looked at the marriage papers blankly, his face unreadable. Finally he looked up at Jack. "I am very sorry, but I have my orders", he said unsmilingly.

Gibbs wrinkled his forehead. Jack rolled his eyes, and shook his head resignedly. "Well then", he said in a husky, and annoyed tone of voice "An' I am even more sorry, but I am in _unyielding_ need of this ship", he saidsmilingly,pulling out his pistol, aiming it at the man, and smirking inwardly as in his head he could almost already hear Elizabeth telling him off (with the most adorably irritated expression on her face) for commandeering her ship, and throwing her first mate into the brig.

* * *

"Maybe you should just ask him?", suggested Giselle uncertainly, after they had eaten in thoughtful silence the food that they had brought. 

"Whom?", Elizabeth looked at her absently.

"Will", answered Giselle with a small smile. "Maybe you should ask him the very question."

"He won't tell me", stated Elizabeth with grim certainty, brushing the crumbs of bread off her dress, and as she did so, the ring that she had even forgotten she was still holding in her hand fell to the blanket, catching Giselle's eye. Elizabeth lazily reached for the ring, and after a moment of hesitation put it on her finger. It was a beautiful ring, and the green stone sparkled enchantingly in the sunlight.

"It's funny", said Giselle with a smile, her eyes fixed on the ring. "This ring looks...", she trailed off, and waved her hand dismissively, but Elizabeth insisted on her to explain. "It just looks familiar. Somebody I knew had a ring like that. It looks very similar."

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Somebody important?", she asked with a friendly smile.

"Oh, very important", replied Giselle with a giggle. "I wouldn't be here now, if it wasn't for him", she added with a small smile, and looked away, but Elizabeth did not let the matter drop. She was way too tired with her own tangled thoughts, and constant pondering of her forgotten past. She wanted to hear something else for a change, she wanted to hear somebody else's story to forget about her own forgotten stories...

Giselle wrinkled her nose, and sighed considering this for a moment. Perhaps it was foolish to talk about something that she so desperately wanted to forget... And to talk about that with somebody she barely knew... Even though she found herself trusting Will's wife as if she had known her for a long time. She did not seem condescending, or aloof, and perhaps she would not judge her harshly... Especially that she had shared with her her own secrets, her thoughts about her husband, about the baby... Maybe she owed her a confession. What was more she knew that without a confession there would be no true friendship, only an acquaintance, as meaningless and dull as all the others...

And so Giselle took a deep breath, and told Elizabeth her story, told her about her orphaned childhood, about hard work, about arriving in a place that she wished she had never arrived... And then a few words about her life on that island that she did not even want to name... A few scenes, grim enough to imagine the rest. And finally she told her about a man, a friend who had given her the money which enabled her to leave that island, and move somewhere else to start a new life. And it was that man that had a similar ring, with a bright green stone set in it.

And as she was saying it, suddenly a thought crossed her mind, startling her. It was obvious that it could not possibly be Jack Sparrow's ring, and yet... She almost forgot, but... In fact, Will knew Jack. He was with him in Tortuga the first time she had seen him, and then he had come alone looking for Jack. So it was truly an odd coincidence, that this ring here resembled the other one...

* * *

"Let's see who is he_r_e!" 

Jack rolled his eyes, considering just walking onward, and pretending that he had not heard the voice at all. He did not really have the time to lose, especially the time to lose on a conversation with a triumphantly-sounding purloiner, who was, in fact, at least partially responsible for his present predicament. Was it not for him, was it not for his _superfluous_ drinking of Aqua de Vida, and now _immortal _Captain Sparrow and _immortal _Mrs. Captain Sparrow would have been sailing the Seven Seas.

"Surprised?", Jack turned around with a strained smile.

Villanueva chuckled. "Why? All pi_r_ates are welcomed in Shipw_r_eck Cove", he said smilingly.

"Ah yes. Fortunately the immortal ones also, aye?", snapped Jack with slight annoyance.

The Spanish Pirate Lord narrowed his eyes, and after a moment of consideration took a step towards Jack. "Ye found it?", he asked, the question sounding more like a disbelieving statement than a question.

Jack looked away. "I bloody did", he said under his breath.

Villanueva shook his head. "I didn't think ye'd make it", he said thoughtfully.

Jack darted his eyes to him with irritation. "An' I even made it with me own ship lookin' as new as ever", he said, smiling, when Villanueva narrowed his eyes in a frown at that comment, remembering the ship he was on when he had come across the _Black Pearl _on his way from the Fountain of Youth.

"That's a ma_r_ginal ci_r_cumstance", said the Spaniard grumpily, the rest of his answer cut off by the sudden appearance of a young, beautiful woman at his side.

"Oh, here you are, my darling."

Jack raised his eyebrows when the girl laced his hand through Villanueva's arm, smiling at him sweetly. Villanueva's facial expression brightened as he greeted the girl with a kiss. Jack looked up at the sky.

"Funny how some things affect other things", observed Jack with a half-smirk, remembering the very same women disliking Villanueva vigorously at the time when they had been in Shipwreck Cove for the Brethren Court.

Villanueva grinned somewhat mysteriously, and then asking the woman smilingly to wait for him inside the building, he kissed her, and waited for her to walk away before he spoke again. "So what was ye_r_s?", he asked with a knowing smile.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and looked at Villanueva uncertainly. "Mine what?", he asked, puzzled.

Villanueva sighed. "Ye_r_ wish", he said lowering his voice in a conspirational manner.

Jack blinked, even more puzzled. "My wish?", he echoed, not even bothering to pretend that he knew what the other pirate was talking about.

Villanueva shrugged his shoulders. "Ve_r_y well, don't tell", he said, looking almost hurt.

Jack, exhausted by the pointlessness of the time-consuming conversation, took a deep breath, and explained in an as little irritated tone of voice as he could muster that, in fact, he had no bloody idea what Villanueva was talking about.

The Spanish captain looked him up and down with astonishment. "Ye mean ye didn't retu_r_n the cha_r_t?", he asked incredulously.

Jack tilted his head to the side, and knitted his eyebrows while listening to Villanueva explaining that if you returned the chart to the Spirit of the Fountain of Youth you were granted a wish. And because there were two identical sets of a map and a chart, one set being in his possession, and the other, apparently in Jack's, it was quite obvious that they could not differ in that respect, and that Jack's chart could also have been exchanged for a wish.

Jack listened to the explanation in bewilderment, until a thought sprung to his mind, and he suddenly remembered Will mumbling something about returning the chart, and rowing back to the Fountain _alone_. But no wish had been mentioned. _Of course_, thought Jack with a snort.

"So what was yer wish?", Jack interrupted Villanueva, his curiosity getting the better of him, a vague, ill-boding suspicion slowly forming itself in his mind.

Villanueva laughed briefly. "I thought ye guessed", he said with a hint of amusement in his voice. "The gi_r_l", he said with a bright smile, which turned into a snarl when Jack once again looked clueless. "Love", said Villanueva in a loud voice. "I wished fo_r_ he_r _to fall in love with me. And love me fo_r_eve_r_", he explained with a complacent smile. "That is... as long as she lives", he added as an afterthought.

"Oh", Jack grinned amusedly as the understanding dawned on him, but then his grin disappeared completely, a cold twinge of sudden, frightening realization piercing through him.

_He didn't... He bloody didn't... He couldn't... That treacherous whelp couldn't possibly wish for my Lizzie-_

"Ye mean it actually worked?", asked Jack with frown, looking at Villanueva intently.

The Spanish Pirate Lord chuckled. "Of course it worked", he smiled. "She used to couldn't stand me, an' now-", he trailed off when Jack turned around, and hastily walked away not even bothering to say good-bye. (Or clarify that, in fact, he had not drunk from the Fountain of Youth, the impression with which Villanueva had been undoubtedly left.)

* * *

Despite Giselle's protests that, taking into consideration Elizabeth's current state, she should walk Elizabeth back to her house, and not the other way around, Elizabeth insisted, and walked Giselle all the way to her little cottage where they parted promising each other to meet on the following day. 

Elizabeth was very moved by the other girl's life story, and she had to admit that sometimes it would have been better indeed to have no story at all...

She slowly walked back to her house, the sun setting on the horizon, casting strange shadows on the ground as she strolled up the path, her eyes fixed on the road. Maybe Giselle was right? Maybe she should ask Will? Come up to him, look him in the eyes, and ask him. And even if he would not tell her, maybe she could at least catch a glimpse of something in his eyes? A glimpse of a truth, a glimpse of a lie... Something.

When she reached the house it was almost dark, and she noticed light in one of the rooms indicating that Will had already come back from work.

She reluctantly walked in, took off the coat in the hallway, and went straight to the lightened room. He looked up when she entered, and slowly rose to his feet from the settee.

"I was worried", said Will in a low voice, and without a smile. "It's late."

"It's dark", observed Elizabeth quietly, looking at him intently.

Will nodded mutely.

"But it's never too late", she said in a serious tone of voice, her eyes fixed on him.

And he blinked, feeling a small ray of hope shining through her words. Was she really saying it? Was she saying that it was not too late for them? That she decided to give him a chance? His mind began producing the strangest, beautiful images, when all of a sudden all of them vanished, as she – once again – disillusioned him with her next sentence.

"It's never too late to tell the truth", she continued. "Tell me the truth, please, Will, tell me the truth", she took a few steps toward him, and his eyes widened at the sight of almost heartbreaking desperation in her eyes, and for the first time since they had arrived in Maldream it crossed his mind that she might actually be _truly _unhappy here.

He looked at her sadly, and slowly lifted his hand to cup her face. Should he tell her the truth? How could he tell her the truth? How could he explain everything that had happened? How could he describe that feeling that changed him, that had seemed to be a sweet miracle at the beginning, until it had began destroying him, bringing him to do things that he had never imagined he could do.

"The truth", he whispered, brushing her cheek with the back of his hand while she stood motionlessly, and just stared at him with wide, expectant, hopeful eyes.

Whatever he would tell her, it would not be enough, it would not explain anything. It was too late. There was no way back, and she had to accept it as had he.

"The truth is", his hand dropped to his side, and he gave her a faint smile, "that I love you, Elizabeth. That's the truth", he added almost inaudibly, and walked past her, and out of the room.

Elizabeth closed her eyes, and wrapped her arms around herself, standing for a moment without moving, until at last she opened her eyes, and freed the tears which streamed down her face. And she stood in the middle of the room, shaking, and crying in silence, the room spinning around her slowly at first, and then faster and faster, the exhaustion caused by the trip suddenly washing over her like a tall, dark wave.

And Will did not even hear her fall to the floor, as he slowly climbed up the stairs overwhelmed by his own, dark sorrow, and by his own, dark waves of thoughts crashing against him.


	76. Chapter 76

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

...& please be patient with me now (for a month or so), because I'm heading toward the end of the semester, meaning: the examination session. But I promise to do my best & update whenever I find the time:)

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 76**

_Six months later_

Gibbs stopped before the _Black Pearl_'s Captain's Quarters' door, and sighed. He lifted his hand to knock, but then dropped it to his side, and sighed again.

It felt good to be back on the _Pearl _after almost five months of not being here, five months that he had spent on the _Empress _following one of the ships aboard which Will and Elizabeth might have been. He had tracked the ship within three weeks, talked to people, but nobody had recalled seeing the missing couple. Having send a message to Jack, he had followed another ship, saving them the necessity to commandeer a vessel that they would have had to use to follow that ship, which had actually proved difficult to track. The pursuit had taken Gibbs all the way to Madagascar allowing him to taste the dangers, pleasures, and thrills of being in charge of a ship not as a first mate, but as a captain, as he had been made a temporary captain of the _Empress _for as long as the search would have lasted. Elizabeth's crew was rather friendly and cooperative, especially upon learning that, in fact, they were searching for her, and therefore they had treated the journey as a rescue mission launched to find their captain.

Elizabeth's dutiful first mate had spent a month in the brig, as it had taken him a month to at last believe the entire story. But when he had finally acknowledged that Captain Swann was Captain Sparrow now, and that she could have been in danger, Gibbs had let him out of the brig allowing him to reclaim his first mate's position, and soon he had proved to be a very skillful, diligent, and smart crew member, even despite his occasional tendency to speak haughtily to everybody who happened to have a different opinion on a given subject.

And so they had travelled a long way, only to meet with the _Flying Dutchman _which had been brought into those waters to collect the souls... of the crew of the ship that the _Empress _had been tracking. Apart from that tragic event, Bill Turner had no good news whatsoever. The ship that had been traced by the _Flying Dutchman _was apparently not the one aboard which Elizabeth and Will had been. The captain of that ship, being as he was utterly terrified by the sudden appearance of the _Flying Dutchman_, as well as being subjected to so many questions from the _Dutchman_'s captain, had eagerly provided all the possible information he could have thought of, although none of them had been in any way connected with Will and Elizabeth.

Altogether, after five months of searching, four of the five ships had provided no clue.

Throughout this time Jack had been following the _Quiet Thunder,_ the ship that had left the port on the very same day on which Bill Turner had left Will and Elizabeth on land. For some reason Jack had felt that it was _the _ship, and the _Black Pearl _had been following it frantically, desperately trying to catch up with the ship which had several weeks of head start.

And now Gibbs was standing in front of Jack's cabin door, having received a message delivered to him by 'Bootstrap' that he should have come back to the Caribbean. Initially, he had hoped that it was a good sign, but considering the atmosphere on the ship which had greeted him upon his return, that was not the case.

He sighed, and lifted his hand, this time determined to finally knock on the door, but then he heard an odd sound coming from the inside, and that sound stopped him in mid-action. Hesitantly, he pressed his ear to the door, and listened. Although the sound was muffled, he could differentiate two voices, one undoubtedly Jack's, but the other?... The other voice he could not quite recognize.

* * *

It was already after the sunset, but Will was still working in his blacksmith shop, the steady noise made by the hammer coming crashing down on the steel having, somehow, a calming effect on him. 

He would rather work than come back home. Every day he seemed to spend more time in the shop; every day he stayed several minutes longer, and he absently thought that one day he would just stay here forever, and never come back home again, spending the rest of his days making swords and tools, and becoming more and more embittered with each passing day.

Home. Did he have a home? He could not really say he did. That house did not feel like home at all. Not with Elizabeth showing more affection toward furniture than toward him. Since that day six months ago when she had come back from the picnic at the seaside, the things between them were only getting worse. And he had known that the things would have been getting worse since he had spotted _that _ring on her finger, even though he had made no comment about it, and nor had she.

Later on that day she had lost consciousness, and he had not even noticed it, not until, after waiting for an hour for her to come upstairs, listening for her footsteps, he had finally decided to go back downstairs, and see whether she was alright. But she was not. He had found her on the floor. So once again he had run through the night, through the field that looked strangely eerie and lonely in the silent darkness, to fetch the doctor.

Elizabeth had been carried upstairs, and taken care of, and he had found himself asking whether the baby was alright. He did not know why he had asked that question back then. Whether he had been worried... or scared to have another guilt to blame on him... or perhaps in that question there was a small flicker of some evil emotion too... evil hope... And maybe he had asked that question precisely to deafen that thought...

Or perhaps it was not true, perhaps he was too harsh with himself, because when Doctor Grant had said that they were both (_they were both_) fine, he had felt sincere relief.

And in the course of the next few months he had tried his best to make the relations between him and Elizabeth at least tolerable again, but she had kept herself far away from him, and every day seemed to drag them even more apart. She had stopped talking to him, and she had even stopped pretending that she wanted to listen to him talking, and sometimes he had not known whether it was because she really hated him, or perhaps she was just constantly not feeling well. Mr. Grant had been optimistic during his every visit, but one day he had mentioned to Will (tapping him repeatedly on the shoulder) that she had had to have peace and quiet, and lots of sleep, and that she was not going through the pregnancy too well, the last statement he had almost muttered, as if it was something not very serious, but Will had known better, and after his rather urgent inquiries, the doctor had admitted that Elizabeth was very weak, both physically, but also, as it had seemed to him, emotionally, and her mental state was not really helping to build her physical strength. And although all of that had been said in the most reassuring, calm, and friendly tone of voice, Will had inferred two things from that conversation. Firstly, that Elizabeth's as well as the baby's lives were endangered, and secondly, that Mr. Grant thought that Will was the reason of Elizabeth's grim mood.

Well. Perhaps he was. But what could he do about that? The conversation had frightened him, and he had tried to take care of Elizabeth best as he could, but as soon as she had felt a bit better, she had began to behave more and more harshly toward him. Not all the time, of course, as there had been many silent day when she had hardly uttered a word to him; there had even been days when he had not seen her at all. But there were also days when she had not needed much to get very angry, shouting at him for putting a fork on the wrong side of the plate.

To his bewilderment, Doctor Grant had actually laughed at that, when he had mentioned the incident to him. And not only laughed, but had actually observed that it was a perfectly normal thing, and nothing to worry about, and (still patting him on the shoulder) morover it was even something to be happy about, because it had meant that Elizabeth was a 'fighting type'.

Will had nodded at that glumly, although he had doubted whether the doctor had known just _how _'fighting (type)' indeed Elizabeth was.

Among all the bad days, there had been a few good days as well, but they had not given him any hope anymore. He had known, that those few walks, few smiles, few nice conversations had meant nothing at all. And even when several times she had let him kiss her good morning, or good night it meant nothing at all, and he was slowly succumbing to that nothingness which seemed to engulfed his present existence.

Perhaps it was not only Elizabeth's behaviour, but also his own attitude that prevented the situation from improving. At the beginning he had just known that there was a baby. That there was some abstract, ethereal, nigh hypothetical baby that was going to be born one day, and from that day on he would have been constantly reminded of what he had done on the one hand, and where Elizabeth's heart lie on the other. But it was something that was going to happen in the future, and he had tried to push all the grim thoughts connected with the subject off his mind. However, the time had passed, and a month later he could not look at Elizabeth without thinking about that anymore. And it was only getting worse.

And he had suspected that Elizabeth had known that, that she had seen that strange emotion, fear, and dismay, and regret mixed together in his eyes when he had looked at her, his gaze never failing to swept over her stomach, even when he had specifically tried not to look into that direction, because every time he had looked into that direction he had seen scenes in his mind's eye which he would have rather not seen.

He had become miserable; while Elizabeth was getting better, and feeling better, and she had even began inviting people for dinners, inviting the women from the village for cake and coffee. Yes, the cakes. That had actually caught him by surprise that she had expressed the readiness to learn how to cook and bake. Mrs. Roggson had been summoned for regular lessons, which were soon joined by Giselle, who had also proved to be an eager apprentice, and for a month there had not been even one single day when, coming back from the shop, Will would not have been presented with a fancy meal and a cake, all in the atmosphere of joyful laughter and friendly chats.

And for a moment he had thought that Elizabeth was beginning to enjoy their quiet life, enjoy the company of their neighbours, even enjoy being a housewife.

But he was wrong. As soon as the door would close behind the guests, she was back to her cold and reserved self, treating him with such immaculate politeness that sometimes it cut through his heart deeper than it would if she screamed and shouted at him.

He felt lonely. He felt more alone than he had ever felt in his life, and he had spent many sleepless nights wishing that it had never happened, than he had never had that wish, that he had never abducted her... He had spent many nights just staring at the ceiling and imagining that it had never happened, that after the curse had been lifted, his father had left him in that port, and he had started a new life, maybe even here in Maldream, but... without Elizabeth.

Will looked up from the sword that he was polishing, and scanned the dim interior of the blacksmith shop. He was tired, but the thought of going back to the house displeased him.

Slowly, he slumped down into a wooden chair, tilted his head backwards, and closed his eyes.

The main reason why he did not want to come back to the house was the startling realization with which he had woken up this morning.

This morning, seven months after settling down in Maldream, he had opened his eyes with a strange, empty feeling pulsating in his head, and in his heart.

And it was hard to understand how it could have happened so surreptitiously, how it could have escaped so clandestinely, that he could not even pin the exact moment when it had happened. Or even the exact reason...

But it did not matter now. What mattered was the result, the incredulous realization, the fact, that somewhere in between his suffocating sense of guilt, Elizabeth's angry sadness, his resigned regret, her suspicions, and his sleeplessness – love, his love for her, that love which had turned his world upside down, which once upon a time had been a sweet miracle, that love...

... had passed away, somehow.

* * *

"...rifle an' loot...", came Jack's voice from the other side of the door. Gibbs wrinkled his forehead, eavesdropping intently. 

"...rrrifle an' boot...", answered a strange, screeching voice.

"Loot!", repeated Jack with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"...loot an' boot boot boot!", the odd voice responded. Gibbs scratched his forehead.

"Not boot, ye stupid-", Jack trailed off, and sighed audibly. "Ye... _lovely_ creature. It's loot! We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, an' loot! An' _loot_", he stressed the last word through his gritted teeth.

"We pillage, we plunder, we rrrifle rrrifle, ye stupid boot", replied the voice loudly.

Gibbs thought that he had listened enough without coming any closer to the answer what was going on in Jack's cabin, so he gathered his courage, and at last decided to knock. There was a moment of silence, followed by Jack's "come in" called in a rather grumpy voice. Gibbs cautiously pressed the doorknob, and opened the door, peering inside, and spotting Jack sitting at his desk, but apart from Jack there was nobody else in the cabin.

"Gibbs", Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise, and quickly rose to his feet. "Haven't seen ye here as of late", he observed with a faint smirk, but the humour that he had tried to put into his voice was completely gone from his eyes.

"Aye. Five months, wasn't it?", Gibbs gave Jack a small smile, looking at him concernedly.

"Seven", whispered Jack, averting his eyes, and walking back to his desk.

Gibbs nodded with mute understanding. "Ye didn't find the _Thunder_?", he asked after a pause, looking towards Jack's desk, and spotting something standing next to the desk, hidden under a red cloth thrown over the rather large item.

"I did. That's why I sent for ye", replied Jack with much less enthusiasm than Gibbs would have expected.

"Ye caught up with it?", Gibbs face brightened. "An'-"

"That's the one", cut in Jack unenthusiastically, slumping back into his chair.

Gibbs' eyes widened, and he took a seat across from Jack, looking at him expectantly.

"They were on that ship, an' sailed to the Caribbean", said Jack gloomily, resting his head in his hands.

"That's-", Gibbs stopped in mid-sentence, uncertain whether the word 'great' would actually fit the context.

"An' that's it", said Jack under his breath, glancing up at Gibbs, and continuing after a pause. "We asked in town, but...", he shrugged his shoulders, sat back in his chair, and put one leg over the other. "Somebody said they got on a different ship, somebody else that they left by coach... Same story, different versions", he said grimly, staring into the distance.

"But it's not the end", offered Gibbs hesitantly after a moment of silence.

"No, it's not", Jack tilted his head backwards with a heavy sigh. "It's just... that it's been seven months, an'..."

"Ye can't assume that he wished for _that_", broke in Gibbs in a reassuring tone of voice, guessing correctly what bothered Jack most. From the day when he had heard from Villanueva about the wish, he could not stop thinking about it, and Gibbs knew, even though they had never talked about it, that he had assumed that Will's wish was for Elizabeth to fall in love with him.

Jack shifted his eyes to Gibbs, but did not say anything. "I assume nothin', mate. I just want to find her", he said in a low voice, and Gibbs grimaced compassionately at the morose expression on his face, which sadly reminded him of Jack's look during that month when they had thought that Elizabeth was dead.

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a screeching voice, which he had heard before while listening at the door:

"Yo ho, yo ho..."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, and looked at Jack questioningly. Jack rolled his eyes, reached down, put the mysterious object wrapped in a red cloth on his desk, and swiftly took the cloth off what turned out to be a middle-size cage. Gibbs blinked, staring at the sight in bafflement, while Jack opened the small door in the cage, gently taking a parrot out of it.

"I didn't know it was ye", explained Jack, putting the cage away. "It has an awful habit of flyin' around like crazy when it gets upset", muttered Jack looking sternly at the parrot which was actually looking back at him, clapping its wings, as if it was stretching them after getting out of the cage.

The parrot was bright-red with several blue and yellow feathers on its back. It flapped his wings one more time, and screeched: "Drrrink up me plunder!"

Jack twitched his nose, and sat back in his chair, giving the parrot an irritated look. "The gent I bought it from swore it'd sing", he muttered, continuing the staring contest with the parrot. "But the blasted feathers' holder can't even learn the bloody lyrics."

Gibbs cleared his throat, suppressing a chuckle. "Never knew ye'd like to have a parrot", he observed with an amused facial expression, smiling at the parrot when it actually turned towards him at the sound of his voice.

"It's not my parrot", said Jack quietly, resting his head on his elbow. "It's Lizzie's", he said in an answer to Gibbs' questioning look. "She wanted a singin' parrot, ye know."

"Ah, I see", said Gibbs with a nod, and a small, warm smile.

The parrot looked intelligently between Jack and Gibbs, from time to time fluttering its wings, and uttering single words.

"Not that _this _is anywhere near singin'", observed Jack drily after a pause, narrowing his eyes at the parrot.

"We filch, an sack, drrrink up!", screeched the parrot triumphantly.

Gibbs leaned forward, and smiled. "Just give it time. I'm sure-"

"I'm bloody teachin' that flyin' bunch of feathers one bloody song for twelve weeks now", said Jack through his gritted teeth, staring menacingly at the parrot, which began pinching one of the maps splayed on the desk.

Gibbs bit back a laugh. "Well, I guess ye have to give it _more _time, then."

Jack shot him an annoyed look, and Gibbs smiled apologetically.

"An' what if she's happy", said Jack all of a sudden in a half-morose, half-angry tone of voice.

"Jack", Gibbs wrinkled his forehead, and shook his head. "That's hardly somethin' worth thinkin' of right now."

"Is it? Really?", Jack hid his face in his hands, and sighed.

"Really", stated Gibbs decidedly. "An' what if she's miserable?"

Jack looked up at him abruptly.

Gibbs sighed. "There's no sense in that. Will be no answers till we find 'er, Jack."

"I know", Jack whispered inaudibly shifting his eyes to the parrot, which swirled around as of sensing his gaze.

"Drrrink up me frrrailties yo ho!", said the parrot in a cracking voice, clapping its right wing.

Gibbs smiled, and Jack also smiled faintly. The parrot flew two small steps, and landed directly in front of Jack, who raised his eyebrows at the bird questioningly. The bird tilted its head to the side, and screeched:

"Rrrum!" And flew off the desk.

* * *

"Oh, that's alright, thank you", said Elizabeth in a weak voice, her head falling heavily against the pillow. "I'm sorry." 

"For what?", Giselle asked with a smile. "For not feeling well at the end of the day? Or for being pregnant?", she laughed.

"For dropping a cup of coffee _with _the coffee in it on you", Elizabeth shifted in the bed, trying to find a comfortable position, which was a hard thing to do, as of late. "And for making you almost carry me upstairs", she added with a sigh, and closed her eyes.

Giselle giggled, tucking the bed covers around Elizabeth tightly. "Not carry, but merely assist", she corrected with a smile.

Elizabeth smiled, but her smile quickly turned into a grimace, and she just sighed, and put her hand over her stomach, the smile reappearing on her face when she felt the movement under her palm.

"You sure you'll be alright, Elizabeth?", asked Giselle concernedly, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can stay if you want. At least until Will comes back."

"No, I will be fine, thank you", Elizabeth opened her eyes for a moment, and smiled. "It's so late. Go home, Giselle. I will be alright."

But despite Elizabeth's reassurances, Giselle insisted on staying, and finally got Elizabeth's consent, as well as a sheepish request for a tea, at which Giselle with a bright smile, and pretended annoyance in her voice went out of the room, and headed for the kitchen.

But she did not even get as far as the middle of the stairs when a loud scream stopped her, and caused her to turn around, and run back to Elizabeth's room as fast as she could. She opened the door, and stormed in, finding, to her dismay, Elizabeth propped on one elbow, panting, and moaning, and Giselle did not even waited another moment, or asked the question, but she just ran out of the room, and the house, almost flying above the ground, and when she at last reached Doctor Grant's house, she could hardly catch enough breath to whisper:

"It's started."

* * *

After only one bottle of rum, and a rather long discussion concerning the search that was now going to continue on land rather than at sea, Jack excused himself, and left Gibbs with the rest of the crew members whom he had not seen for the last five months while sailing on the _Empress._

Heading for his cabin, Jack stopped on the main deck, and although he felt drowsy, and exhausted, for some reason he followed an impulse, and slowly walked toward the bow of the ship. The _Black Pearl _lulled softly on the quiet, dark waves under a starry night sky, and the full moon. Next to the _Pearl _was the _Empress_, and he looked warily at the ship, his grip on the rail tightening, and he averted his eyes as if it could help. As if there was even one thing, one image, one sound that did not remind him of her, as if she was not everywhere, in his every thought, in his every look, in his every breath...

He stared out into the night, into the scattered lights of a Caribbean town, across the sparkling darkness of the humming ocean. There was something strange about this night, only he could not quite guess what it was. Somehow, he just could not tear his gaze off the sea, and the stars, even though a few minutes earlier he had felt as if he could have fallen asleep walking.

Slowly, he sat down on the wooden deck, and looked up at the stars glimmering above him, the sound of the waves brushing against the ship, calming him down...

Calming him down?... Only then he realized a strange sense of anxiety pulsating somewhere in his head, and he could feel, and almost hear his heart racing in his chest. _Odd_, he thought numbly, resting his head against the inner side of the ship, staring up at the night sky hanging above him, like a black ocean threatening to fall.

His eyes roam over the stars, trying to guess the mood of his fate at the moment. Trying to guess whether his wife was looking at the same stars right now. Where was she now? _Where are ye, Lizzie..._

He crossed his arms over his chest, and narrowed his eyes, the drowsiness gone completely. For some reason he felt alerted, and very awake, even though he really was very tired. The image of her floated to his mind, so he just sat on the deck, and stared absently into the dark sky, dreaming of her.

* * *

A scream – loud and piercing was the first sound that reached Will's ears when he entered the house, having at last come back from the blacksmith shop late in the evening. His eyes widened, and without even giving it a second thought, he ran toward the stairs, accidentally almost running into Giselle who just emerged from the kitchen carrying a large, steaming bowl of hot water. 

Wordlessly, he quickly took the bowl out of her hands, and carried it upstairs.

"It's too early", he muttered quietly, glancing at Giselle, who climbed up the stairs right next to him.

"No, Doctor Grant said it's not all that early", answered Giselle quickly with a slightly strained, reassuring smile, pressing the doorknob, and taking the water from him when they reached the room's door. "Wait there, Will", she added, nodding towards the stairs, and waited until he moved away before pushing the door open, and stepping inside.

When the door closed Will turned around, and stared at it dully for a moment, his heart clenching at the sound of Elizabeth's screams, and the mixed voices of Doctor Grant, Mrs. Roggson, and Giselle in the background. Not knowing what to do, he sat down on the top of the stairs, put his head in his hands, and tried to remember the words of some long-forgotten prayers which his mother had taught him ages ago.

* * *

"Yo ho, yo ho." 

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and lowered his gaze. The parrot landed softly on one of his boots.

"How did ye get out of the cabin?", asked Jack, shooting the parrot a stern look.

"Rrrifle an' boot?", screeched the parrot, looking at Jack.

Jack rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Aye, boot. _Me_ boot", muttered Jack, lifting his leg abruptly, causing the parrot to fly over onto his other boot.

"Not boot, not boot. Loot!", the bird screeched loudly and flew away.

Jack stared after it, the song singing itself in his head... in her voice...

_Lizzie Lizzie Lizzie where are ye God where are ye..._

* * *

At first, every scream, and every moan caused him to shudder, but then he just listened to those heart-wrenching sounds with unmoving, pale face, and unblinking eyes, his hands curled up into fists, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands. 

How much time passed, Will could not tell, but he knew it was taking long, _too _long, although, on the other hand he did not really know how much time it should take.

He was pushing all the negative thoughts off his mind, wishing that he would stop thinking altogether. What if she would die? What if the baby would die? How could he ever live with it? Would it be his fault? Of course it would. Like everything else.

He covered his face with his hands, and sighed. And then he cringed at how strange his sigh sounded...

...only it was not his sigh that he had heard.

Will leaped to his feet, and listened. And there it was again. That sound. A crying. The crying of a baby.

* * *

"Give him to me, give him to me", whispered Elizabeth feverishly, opening her arms, and reaching out with her shaking hands, Giselle helping her to seat upright. 

"Just one moment, dear, just one more moment", answered Mrs. Roggson in a cheerful voice, wrapping the baby in a white blanket. "We had to wash the little angel first", she said, smiling brightly at the baby, carrying it to the bed, and finally placing it in Elizabeth's arms. "Though he looks more like a little devil, I dare say", she added with a laugh.

"Strong and healthy handsome boy", stated Doctor Roggson with a contented smile, washing his hands in the small bowl.

Elizabeth hardly even heard their comments, completely engrossed by the act of holding her baby in her arms for the first time. She looked at the tiny face, her own brightening, despite the exhaustion which washed over her, almost taking her breath away. A pair of large, dark brown eyes seemed to study her face with great curiosity, a tiny hand reaching out to touch her dishevelled hair. Elizabeth held the baby close, and lifted her hand to touch it, but then hesitated, almost afraid that her touch might hurt the baby, it looked so small, and fragile. Finally she decided to delicately stroke a few strands of short, black hair on the baby's little head with one of her fingertips. The baby smiled at her, and she laughed, blinking back the tears, not knowing whether she cried because she was so happy, or rather so tired; or perhaps it was both.

She gently took one of the tiny hands in hers, and placed a feathery light kiss on the small wrist, looking into the little boy's beautiful, dark eyes, silently asking him a question for which she already have at least a partial answer.

* * *

_Two months later_

"Jack, come with us", said Gibbs, almost pulling Jack by the sleeve of his coat. "Just have a drink or two."

Jack rolled his eyes, waving his hands in the air dismissively.

He did not want to go anywhere now. He just wanted to stay on the _Pearl_, in his cabin, and... and continue dying, and contemplating the last two months of unsuccessful search for Elizabeth on land. They had lost the trace, and he had lost hope. He did not give up, he would never give up, but he had just lost that flicker of hope that had kept him in a fairly good mood in the last nine months, minus the month when he had believed Elizabeth to be dead.

He tried to make Gibbs go into the town without him. After all, it was Gibbs' idea to go to Tortuga to give the crew a couple of days ashore, before they would continue the search. And Gibbs was right of course. The crew seemed content with the arrangement, while he did not really care. Two or three wasted days were nothing in comparison to how much time had already passed.

Jack almost glared at Gibbs, who kept convincing him that a drink in the tavern could make him only feel better, and not worse, and even though he did not want to go, at last he agreed to go just to make Gibbs stop talking.

He was tired, and exhausted, and irritated, and angry, and as he stepped on land he knitted his eyebrows together, and walked next to Gibbs, his eyes fixed on the ground.

"Jack Sparrow!"

The high-pitched voice stopped him in his tracks, but he did not look up. _Bloody Gibbs_.

He should have stayed on his ship. He knew that he did not want to go into the town, and meet people, talk to people. He was tired.

"Ye're not coming here too often anymore", Scarlett put her hands on her hips, and tilted her head to the side.

"Aye", muttered Jack, and turned around, ready to go back to his ship, not failing to shot Gibbs an accusing look.

Gibbs smiled sheepishly.

"You're leaving already?", Scarlett raised her eyebrows.

"Aye", answered Jack, glancing over his shoulder, and starting to walk away. He wanted to be alone, he did not want to talk to anybody. He just wanted to be bloody alone!...

Scarlett shrugged her shoulders, but then remembered something.

"Giselle sends greetings for you!", she called.

Jack stopped, rolled his eyes, turned around, grumbled 'thank ye, same for her', and turned around again, beginning to walk-

"Oh, and do you know that she met your friend there? The world is small like hell", she added, looking at Gibbs, who nodded his head in agreement, but then wrinkled his forehead, and glanced at Jack, who stood motionlessly with his back turned to them.

Suddenly, Jack swirled around. "My friend", he repeated, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes", said Scarlett plainly. "You were here with him once, and then later he was here alone, looking for you."

Gibbs' eyes widened almost to the point of no return, while Jack stared at Scarlett with such an expression in his eyes, that she seriously considered running away.

"Did she happen to mention his name?", asked Gibbs in a quiet, hesitant tone of voice, as if afraid to hear an answer to his question.

Scarlett wrinkled her nose, trying to remember. "Turner", she announced happily after a pause. "Will Turner."

"Dear God", whispered Gibbs in utter disbelief, darting his eyes to Jack, who almost jumped towards them, his face paler than the whitest of sails.

He put his hands on Scarlett's shoulders, and stared at her wide-eyed. "Are ye sayin' that ye know where he is?", he asked in a low voice, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

Scarlett nodded, glancing at Gibbs in search of assistance, slightly afraid of Jack's facial expression at the moment.

"Where is he?", asked Jack in a strangely cracking voice.

"He lives in the same village that Giselle lives now", replied Scarlett, looking at Jack curiously.

"Where", Jack whispered, his grip on Scarlett's shoulders tightening.

Scarlett snorted slightly. "I told you before, I already told you the last time you were here." Jack wrinkled his forehead in a grimace, perplexed. Scarlett smiled. "Maldream!"


	77. Chapter 77

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 77**

Elizabeth had woken up a moment before the baby began to cry. She always woke up a moment before, being usually only half-asleep throughout the night, since that night two months ago, when little Blaxton Weatherby was born.

She threw the bed covers away, and quickly slid off the bed, tiptoeing to the crib. She smiled at her son, and took him in her arms, the crying subsiding almost immediately.

"That's right, no crying, sweetheart", whispered Elizabeth, smiling at the baby, and taking it to the bed with her.

The room was dimly lit, as now she kept the light all night in order to avoid a hurried search for a candle or a lamp in the darkness, should the baby start crying. But she had to admit that little Blaxton luckily did not cry often.

Blaxton. At first, nobody seemed to like the name which she had picked. (Not that she had asked anybody of his or her opinion, maybe except for Giselle, who had actually found the name lovely). But Elizabeth thought that it was a perfect name, since the little boy's eyes looked like two black, shining stones. Besides, it was a decent, Old English name, and she really did not know why people should not like it. And in fact, once she had explained why she thought the name suitable, everyone had agreed that it was quite a pretty name.

With the exception of Will who had said nothing. He had not even suggested a different name, any name. He had always kept silent during the discussions concerning the baby, and as Elizabeth had watched him carefully, her suspicions began to grow, and strengthen, and after two weeks of observing his attitude towards the baby she was fairly certain that her suspicions were correct.

Not that he had said anything, or behaved in any way that could have indicated his dislike toward the infant. But she could see that strange glimpse of sorrow and resignation in his eyes whenever he looked at her, or at the baby. His eyes... His _blue_ eyes.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, and watched her little, brown-eyed son lying contentedly in her arms. He was opening and closing his eyes, as if trying to decide whether he wanted to eat, or to sleep. He caught a lock of Elizabeth's hair in his tiny fist, and held onto it with adorable determination.

His eyes were darker than hers, and his hair... She sighed, trying to imagine her son's father... And even though there still was (despite her suspicions and her intuition) a chance that Will was the father, she liked to think that he was not. That there was somebody else, somebody whom she loved, who loved her, who could make her _feel_, who could make her remember; who could make her _be_.

And yet, she felt sorry for Will, as of late. Her anger had somehow dwindled when Blaxton was born, and she did not even feel like getting angry with her husband (_husband..._) anymore; she just did not care. And something, something of which he had accused her so long ago, and which back then was not exactly the truth, now really was the truth – now she really did not care whether he existed at all. He could disappear, and she might indeed have some trouble noticing it.

She had her baby now, and it was her excuse for limiting, the already severely limited time spent with him. Every time he came back home he would find her with her little son in her arms, occupied with talking to him, or singing to him.

Once, he had even remarked in a half-sad, half-bitter tone of voice that in a single day she had talked to the baby more than she had to him in the course of the past nine months.

Blaxton's little fist released the lock of Elizabeth's hair, shaking her off her reverie, and she smiled warmly at the sleeping face of her son, slowly leaning down, and placing a light kiss on the baby's forehead.

She closed her eyes, dreaming of an arm wrapping around her shoulders, and of somebody who would place a tender kiss on her forehead... Even with the baby, which she loved madly, she still felt very lonely. Maybe even more lonely now, now that she so strongly believed that somewhere out there was somebody who might have been dreaming of her as well...

* * *

"Faster!", was the word most frequently heard aboard the _Black Pearl _during the last several hours, and initially it was treated seriously, until it became apparent that no matter how fast they were breaking through the waves, they were always expected to break through them _faster_.

The black sails billowed in the wind, and it almost seemed as if they were running away from the darkness, sailing across the night with full speed.

The rays of the morning sun appeared as if out of nowhere, engulfing the ship, and brightening the ocean, which shimmered in the sun, sparkling blue waves crashing loudly against the hull.

But nobody seemed to mind the senselessly frantic orders, as for the first time in so many months the atmosphere on the ship was finally as it had used to be.

They had left Tortuga in a great hurry, being stopped literally in the middle of the gangplank, and ordered to go back to their stations!!!!!!! But everybody found the restoration of the cheerful moods worth that hasty departure, as well as the delay of their long-awaited shore leave.

Jack stood at the helm, trying to fight the constant impression that they were going too slow. And he was just about to call Gibbs, and for the thousandth time share that impression with him, when suddenly he grinned, at last noticing the land coming into view.

* * *

Will slowly walked into the kitchen, and performed all the usual, meaningless tasks, his mind wandering elsewhere, his face frozen in an expression of constant exhaustion, and sadness. He did not remember when was the last time when he had smiled. He still smiled from time to time among people, forcing his lips to curl up into that artificial grimace, but when he was alone he never smiled anymore. He had used to smile thinking of Elizabeth... Now when he thought of her, he felt even more gloomy.

He sat down at the table staring at his breakfast, and having no appetite to eat it. He did not know what he should do. It had been three months now since he had started to think about telling Elizabeth the truth. But he had thought that telling her the truth when she was pregnant was not a good idea, because it might have come as too great a shock to her, bringing her, and the baby more harm than it already had.

He sighed, and took a sip of his lukewarm coffee. And now he just could not choose the right moment. Maybe it was still too early... And what would she do if he told her? Would she just leave? Would she understand? Would she forgive him?

He went over his usual set of questions, and as always decided to think about it on the next day. Again...

* * *

Giselle woke up with a start, and sat up in the bed abruptly, listening intently. She thought that perhaps it was only a dream... but then she heard the noise again: a loud knocking on the door.

"What is it", she muttered irritatedly, glancing out of the window, the morning sun lightening the room.

It was her day off today, and she intended to finally get some sleep, because it was the only day in a week when she did not have to wake up right after the dawn, because of work. And for some reason somebody picked that specific day to pound on her door at such an early hour.

Throwing a coat over her nightdress, she went to the door, and opened it hastily.

"What-", she started with a frown, but then her eyes widened. "Jack!?"

"Mornin' darlin', we're very sorry for the intrusion", said Jack with a small smile in a not very apologetic tone of voice, walking, along with Gibbs into the house, before Giselle actually invited them in.

"What are you doing here?", she asked, staring at the unexpected guest in astonishment. "I mean...", she added quickly, thinking that perhaps it was not a very polite welcoming. After all, she should rather use this opportunity to thank him, as she had never actually had the occasion-

"Where is that revolting, repulsive, repugnant rat?", asked Jack through his gritted teeth, interrupting whatever she was trying to say.

Giselle blinked. "Who?", she asked tentatively, wrinkling her forehead.

"A rat. Ugly, slimy, hideous, disgusting-"

"Also known as one William Turner", cut in Gibbs with an apologetic smile, deciding to clarify the question for Giselle who seemed rather puzzled by Jack's description.

"Oh, Will!", acknowledged Giselle with a smile, happy to finally understand, but then she frowned slightly. "A rat?", she asked, perplexed.

"We'd like to know where he lives", Gibbs explained hurriedly with a smile, before Jack started adding new embellishments to his already vivid description of Will.

"Up the road", answered Giselle in a low voice, waving her hand in the direction. "Up the hill", she said uncertainly. "But... why... what-"

"Thank ye", replied Jack turning around, opening the door, and storming out of the little house, followed but Gibbs, who smiled at Giselle apologetically.

"Wait!", called Giselle, running after them in her slippers. "Can you tell me what is this all about?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Yes, but not now."

"But...", Giselle wrapped the coat tighter around herself, the cool morning air sending an unpleasant shiver up her spine, almost as unpleasant as a vague suspicion that Will might not survive that visit (at least not in one piece), if she was to judge by the look in Jack's eyes when he had talked about him. "Please, what-"

"He kidnapped me wife, alright?", cut in Jack, hoping to shorten the discussion, and the discussion ended indeed, because Giselle just stared at him dumbfounded, and stunned into silence, million thoughts running through her head.

"_Your wife_?", she repeated disbelievingly, glancing at Gibbs, who nodded. "Oh God", she whispered, smiling nervously, not really knowing why she was smiling. _He is not- They are not- Oh, stop it, stop it._

"So if you excuse us", Jack turned around.

"Wait!", Giselle ran after him, and blocked his way. "You should know something."

Jack wrinkled his forehead, not liking that kind of sentences at all.

"She doesn't...", Giselle sighed. "She lost her memory", she said sadly.

Jack's and Gibbs' eyes widened almost simultaneously.

"She lost her memory?", repeated Jack incredulously with a frown, but then suddenly his face, to both Gibbs', and Giselle's astonishment brightened.

"Jack...", started Gibbs hesitantly, beginning to worry whether grinning was a well-boding reaction to such startling news.

_That filthy mongrel wished for me Lizzie to lose her memory, despicable idiot._

"Let's go", said Jack quickly, swirled around, and quickly walked away in the direction showed earlier by Giselle.

Giselle and Gibbs exchanged uncertain looks, but then Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, and hurried after Jack.

Giselle stared after them worriedly for a moment, and it was not until they were almost out of sight when she suddenly remembered one more thing that he had forgotten to tell them. She had forgot to tell them about the baby...

* * *

"You are the most beautiful baby in the world", Elizabeth smiled brightly, lifting little Blaxton from the crib. The baby giggled happily, staring at her with wide, curious, shining eyes.

"Elizabeth?", the voice came from the other side of the door, followed by a quiet knocking.

Little boy quietened, as if he tried to locate the source of the strange sound. "And the smartest one", added Elizabeth in a whisper, kissing a tiny hand, and walking to the door.

"Yes?", she opened the door, and Will took a subconscious step backwards.

"I just wanted to tell you that I'm going to the shop", he muttered, glancing at the baby, who got hold of a lock of Elizabeth's hair, and pulled it, squealing happily.

"Alright", replied Elizabeth with a small smile, looking up at him, and then back at the baby, whose little fingers were getting more and more entangled in her hair.

"I will see you in the evening", added Will after a moment of awkward silence.

Elizabeth looked up at him, and nodded with a smile, that smile which he had learnt to hate; that artificial, strained, indifferent grimace that she had been giving him for the last few months.

"Do you need anything?", he asked, looking at Elizabeth, who was gently disentangling Blaxton's little fingers from her hair. "I can-"

"No, we're fine", cut in Elizabeth in a gentle voice, her eyes fixed on the baby. "We're fine, right?", she smiled at the baby, who giggled, and tried to grab her nose, but could not quite reach it.

_We_. Will shifted his eyes between the mother, and the child gloomily. What was he even doing here? He did not even feel that he lived, that he had a right to live here anymore. He felt like a stranger, like an intruder, and now not only at nights, but also during the days he often wished for the time to be turned back, for everything to go back to some point in the past when everything was simpler, when there were many choices, and many possibilities, when he was not confined to a life which was empty, except for an overwhelming sense of guilt, and regret.

"Have a good day, then, Elizabeth", said Will in a low voice, slowly turning around to walk away.

"You too, Will", she said, quite unexpectedly, her voice soft and friendly, and he looked at her in mild bafflement as she gave him an _almost _genuine smile.

They locked eyes for a moment, and he had a brief, strange impression that something had just ended, only he could not quite decide what it was. He smiled, and nodded, and slowly walked down the stairs, heading for the door.

* * *

"Ja- Jack... Jack...", Gibbs breathed heavily, trying to catch up with Jack who was more running than walking up the empty road.

"What is it", called Jack in a fairly disinterested tone of voice, his mind preoccupied with hundreds of different thoughts, all of them engulfed by the overwhelming, fluttering feeling of both excitement, and anxiety.

"Jack, what are ye goin' to do?", asked Gibbs, finally managing to appear on Jack's side.

"I'd rather spare ye the grisly details, mate", replied Jack in a low voice, walking quickly, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

Gibbs seemed confused for a moment, but then he smiled. "I meant apart from that", he said with a chuckle, not really believing that Jack would kill Will, if only for the sake of Bill Turner.

"I don't know", said Jack after a pause, stopping in his tracks. "I just don't know", he whispered gloomily, and started walking again, before Gibbs had a chance to respond.

He did not want to think about it yet. He did not want to think about the fact that, once again, she would not remember him. Right now, he just wanted to find her, to see her, to know that she was alright. He would worry about the rest later. He still had hope... Because even if she did not remember him, it did not mean that she did not love him... And now he had more rights than he had had when they had met in Tortuga, when she had had that accident. Now she was his _wife_, and now he _knew_ that she loved him. _Had_ loved him... He clenched his fists, and took a deep breath...

...but did not breath out, because it was then that a house came into view, and he quickened his step, almost running towards it. Gibbs followed not without difficulty, breathing heavily.

A house, an ordinary house. Perhaps she wanted to have a house, after all. Was it not what all women wanted? Perhaps... hopefully not... She was a woman, but she was also a pirate, and she loved the _Black Pearl_. Didn't she? Hadn't she... She loved him...

There was no sense in all those thoughts, and he knew that, but the closer to the house he was, the more all kinds of thoughts were suddenly and restlessly invading his mind, and by the time he got to the door, there was nothing but a chaos in his mind, a burning feeling in his heart, and a cold shiver crawling up his spine at a tantalizingly slow rate.

"Should I... wait outside?", asked Gibbs in a hesitant voice, looking at Jack concernedly.

And Jack was about to answer, but then suddenly the doorknob moved, and Jack quickly pulled Gibbs with him towards the wall on the other side of the door, and when the door opened, for a moment they were hidden behind the open the door. Somebody stepped outside of the house, and closed the door without turning around, not noticing two people pressed against the wall.

Gibbs held his breath, and Jack's hands curled into fists as he watched Will slowly walking away from the house.

"Follow him", said Jack quietly, his eyes fixed on the retreating figure.

"Aye", Gibbs nodded. "Should I-"

"Just keep an eye on him", cut in Jack, pulling himself away from the wall, and taking a few steps toward the door. "Ye don't have to make yer presence known. Just make sure he won't be back too soon. I need...", he trailed off, tapping his fingers on the air. Gibbs put his hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack glanced at him, and sighed. "Bring him back in a few hours. Savvy?"

"Aye", Gibbs smiled reassuringly. "Everything will be fine", he said in a firm tone of voice.

Jack smiled at him faintly, and nodded, turning his head towards the door. After looking at Jack thoughtfully for a moment yet, Gibbs turned around, and walked away, following Will who was almost out of sight already.

Jack stood in front of the door, staring at it, and trying to regain his composure. His thoughts, his memories, everything was flowing back to him, the images springing to his mind, her voice reverberating in his head, her eyes boring into his with breathtaking intensity.

He lifted his hand to knock, and held his breath, but after a moment he just flattened his hand against the door, the wooden surface feeling almost too real under his palm. He closed his eyes, and rested his forehead against the door listening to his heart beating furiously in his chest. It was so quiet here... Unbearably quiet... If it was not for his racing heartbeat, and uneven breathing, the silence would be absolutely perfect... He opened his eyes, and frowned. What was he afraid of? There was nothing to be afraid of. It was Lizzie. His Lizzie. And he had searched the world for her. He had been looking for her for almost ten months, one of them being a month of horrible nightmares, that month when he had thought that she was dead...

But she was alive. Lizzie was alive, and she was here, right behind that door, so close, so within his reach, so close, so here, so his... his Lizzie.

His Lizzie.

* * *

Elizabeth slowly placed sleeping Blaxton in the crib in the room downstairs. She leaned on her elbows, and looked down on her little son, stroking his tiny face with her fingertips. The baby's nose twitched, and Elizabeth smiled, and withdrew her hand.

"I'll be right back", she whispered to the sleeping baby, and noiselessly walked away to make herself some breakfast.

The knocking on the door stopped her in the hallway. She sighed, and rolled her eyes. Her husband must have forgotten something.

She frowned, and opened the door hastily, wondering what Will could have possibly forgo-

She froze.

The wind from the outside brushed loose strands of her hair behind her shoulders, and the cool morning air skimmed over her skin covered only by the thin fabric of her simple green dress.

But somehow she felt that it was not the cold air that made her shiver.

It was rather that voice; that voice which pierced through her heart like a sharpest blade, and yet it did not hurt, it did not hurt at all; but instead she felt a hurricane of wonderfully thrilling emotions rushing through her when that man at the door smiled faintly, and said in a low, solemn, mesmerizing voice:

"You look beautiful, Lizzie."


	78. Chapter 78

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 78**

He stared at her, half-surprised that he had even managed to utter that one sentence. She looked at him in silence, standing motionlessly, as if frozen in time and space, as beautiful as always, as unforgettable as he remembered.

He saw no recognition in her eyes, although her eyes were shining brightly, shining more with every passing moment. And he wanted to just pull her in his arms, kiss her, whisper her name- No. _Scream _her name, hold her close, and never let go.

Ten months. Ten months of searching, and dying, and hoping, and dreaming. And now it seemed not much more than a bad dream, a sad dream which was over. She was here, she was well, she was looking at him, probably having no idea who he was, but it did not matter. With astonishment he acknowledged that it actually did not matter, that he did not care. She was here – and it was all that mattered, all that he needed to go on... And there was light in her eyes. Light, and... (he smiled inwardly) curiosity?...

"Who are you?", asked Elizabeth in a soft voice, staring at the stranger with irrational fascination.

And he wanted to smile, to laugh because of the sheer pleasure of hearing her voice; of hearing her voice not in his head, not in his mind, not in his imagination, but _really _hearing it. It was her voice, it was her, and yet he neither smiled, nor laughed, for suddenly he could not even move one muscle in his face, he could not move at all. He looked at her, gazed at her hungrily, as if all the time in the world was not enough to _really see_ her.

Elizabeth blinked, slowly dragging herself out of her reverie. She stared at the man at the door, suddenly noticing more details about his appearance. He looked a bit... strange, with all those jingling trinkets in his hair, that is... in his _dreadlocks_, and she also noticed a sword, and a pistol, and it made her slightly anxious. What if he had some questionable intentions, and she was here alone, alone with Blaxton.

It crossed her mind to close the door, but... she remembered what that man had said... _"Lizzie."_

_Lizzie._

He had called her 'Lizzie'. And the word sounded... _important._ And yet, maybe he was just mistaking her with somebody?... Or maybe... maybe he knew her...

She swallowed, quite unable to tear her eyes off his face, off his eyes...

His eyes. His transfixing, unfathomable eyes. His... brown eyes.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and a strange, thrilling, dizzying thought flickered across her mind. "Have we...", she whispered tentatively, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "Have we met before?"

Jack did not smile, but his face suddenly brightened, a warm glow lightening his features, lightening his eyes. "Oh yes, Lizzie, we most definitely have", he said in a low voice, in _that _voice, in that voice that caused her blood to suddenly run faster in her veins, and he felt her cheeks flushing without any particular reason whatsoever.

But soon she was given a reason, because the man unexpectedly stepped forward, and causing her to take a few steps backwards walked into the house, and closed the door behind him.

Elizabeth gasped in surprise. "I'm sorry, but... who are you?", she asked again, looking at him uncertainly, surprised by her suddenly quickened heartbeat, by her suddenly uneven breathing, which, oddly, seemed to have little to do with fear.

"Lizzie..."

He leaned forward, and she took one step backwards, hitting the wall behind her.

"I'm sorry, I-", she trailed off, simultaneously terrified that she had just let a stranger into the house; astonished by his behaviour, intrigued by the name he was using to address her, and on the top of it all thrilled by the sound of his voice, and by the fire in his eyes... That fire which was, strangely enough, setting her own heart, mind, and body ablaze.

Consumed by all those conflicting thoughts, she did not notice the exact moment when his hands touched her face, and he stood now very close, trapping her between his body, and the wall, cupping her face in his rough hands, and looking at her with utmost concern, and overpowering intensity.

She stared at him in bewilderment, her eyes wandering all over his face, and while it did cross her mind that she could just raise her hands, and pull his hands away from her face, she could not actually bring herself to do that. Maybe she was too scared, or too perplexed, or... or maybe his hands just felt too good, so warm, so _wonderful _on her skin, that she wished that he would never draw them away. Not that he looked as if he wanted to do that anytime soon. He kept her face in his coarse hands, his thumbs gently stroking her cheeks.

And she knew that she should do something, that it was more than odd that she was just letting a stranger touch her, and caress her face, and-

_What is he doing?!_, thought Elizabeth with mute puzzlement, when he slid one of his hands a little lower, and ran his thumb along her lower lip.

"I don't think-", started Elizabeth, but stopped in mid-sentence, shocked by the sensation caused by her lips moving against his thumb which was still touching her lips.

Her mind was racing, and she looked at him, looked in his eyes which were studying her face intently, tenderly, longingly... His hands slid into her hair, and when he tilted his head even more forward she held her breath, wondering why she was not pushing him away, why she was not saying something that could make him pull away, why she did not feel scared anymore, but merely fascinated, hypnotized by his eyes, captivated by his gaze, transfixed by his scent, enchanted by his touch...

"I knew I would find you", he whispered, his lips hovering over hers, and she swallowed, not even trying to pretend that she could breath evenly, because she could hardly breath at all. He was so close... He was so tantalizingly close, and suddenly all kinds of thoughts flooded her mind. Thoughts, dreams, ideas, suspicions, fantasies... But could it be true? Could her lonesome imagination that had been conjuring up illusory miracles at last proved to hold the key to the truth? Could he be... not a stranger? Could he be...

"Find me?", she whispered, half-hoping that if she spoke, her lips would brush against his. She involuntary glanced at his lips, feeling a wave of fire washing through her, and robbing her mind of all lucidity of thinking. "Why?", she breathed, her hands shaking, and she fought the urge to lift them, and touch him, touch his face like he was touching hers.

"I searched the world for you, luv", he said with a half-smile, half a grimace, almost a grimace of pain, and she watched with amazement a rainbow of emotions crossing his face, and flickering in his eyes. There was sadness, and hurt, and hope, and despair, and joy... Or was she just imagining it? Perhaps she was just imagining everything, perhaps he was not even there, perhaps he did not exist, perhaps she was dreaming, yes, she must have been dreaming, she must have-

"Why?", she asked, feeling as if she was about to faint, when he withdrew one of his hands, and wrapped it around her waist pulling her closer, his other hand still tangled in her hair.

"Why", he echoed with a faint smirk, and she gasped against her will, his smile igniting something in her, something strong, and passionate, and she could not keep herself from finally raising her hands, and placing her cool palms on both sides of his face.

His eyes fluttered shut, and he shuddered, resting his forehead against hers, and she hardly managed not to close her eyes as well. But she did not want to close her eyes, she wanted to look, she wanted to look at him, to see him, to _feel _him.

"Lizzie...", he whispered, tightening his embrace, and she did not even make the slightest motion to protest. "God, how I missed ye, how I missed ye Lizzie, how I missed ye...", he opened his eyes, and looked at her from under his black-painted eyelids.

She was still looking at him, her hands timidly caressing his face, or rather exploring it, as if she was looking for something there...

She took a deep, shaky breath. "What's your name?", she asked, looking him deeply in the eyes, eagerly drowning into the dark infiniteness of his gaze. "Who are you?"

He drew his hand across her face, and smiled faintly. "Jack", he replied after a pause, and she stilled her movements, her hands sliding down from his face to rest on his shoulders. "Captain Jack Sparrow", he added almost inaudibly, for the first time in his life feeling awkward introducing himself.

_Jack._

She stared at him in silence, and he was not sure what kind of thoughts were running through her mind, for her face was unreadable. He cupped the side of her face in his hand, and she trembled, but still only looked at him without uttering a word.

"I'm your husband", he said at last, locking his eyes with hers, and watching her hazel eyes widening, and shining even more.

_Husband._

"My husband", she echoed with a twitch of her mouth, with a grimace of bafflement, or disbelief, he could not quite tell, perhaps it was both. "But-", she started in a quivering voice, but he hushed her by putting a finger across her lips, and she glanced at his finger, and then looked back at his face, her eyes clouding over, her vision blurring.

He let go of her waist, and she found herself wishing he hadn't... Reaching into his coat, he pulled something from under it, a piece of paper which he unfurled, and held for her to see. Reluctantly, she took her hands off his shoulders, and took the document in her hands, reading so fast that she could hardly make sense of the words. But even in her currently very disturbed state of mind she could understand that one, most important thing.

"You are", she whispered, darting her eyes to him. It was not a question, although her voice faltered, and he quickly pulled her toward him again, closing his arms around her reassuringly.

"Lizzie...", he looked at her worriedly, because suddenly she started shaking, and the tears sparkled in her eyes, threatening to flow.

She shook her head violently, and he was not sure what she meant, and when she gave him back their marriage papers, he still did not know whether she wanted him to leave her alone, or...

She covered her face with her hands, and started to cry, so he quickly tucked the papers back under his coat, and pulled her into an embrace, letting her head rest against his chest. And despite his fears, she did not push him away, but just on the contrary, she snuggled herself even closer to him, still sobbing, and trembling, and he kissed the top of her head, kissed her hair, not really knowing what was happening, apart from feeling his heart pounding loudly in his chest, and he wondered briefly whether she could hear it.

And she could; she nestled her face into his chest, not caring whether she was acting reasonable. She did not care, because suddenly the pieces of the mystery that most of the times she even doubted that it ever existed somewhere beside her wild imagination; those pieces were now falling into their places, forming a picture, forming the reality, the reality around her, his arms around her, him...

Husband. Now it made sense, now it made sense that she felt something in connection with this word. And she could not stop the tears, even though she had not felt equally happy in the past several months, she had not felt that happy as long... as she remembered, and yet she could not hold back the tears which were streaming down her face, soaking his shirt.

Gently, he propped her chin with his hand, and tilted his head backwards to look into her face. "Why are ye cryin', luv?", he asked with a faint smile brushing the tears away from her face with his thumbs.

"I knew you are... I knew...", she choked on the tears, staring at him in wonder, and he saw a glimpse of the past in her eyes; he remembered her looking at him like that when, after they had overcome all the obstacles (or so it would have seemed...), when they were just _being _together, being with each other, being close, and inhaling the happiness around them, until-

"'Lizbeth", he smiled, and kissed away some tears from her cheek.

_'Lizbeth._

Elizabeth shuddered. The name, and his lips on her skin almost sweeping her off her feet. But she steadied herself by putting her hands on his shoulders again. "Say it again", she demanded in a shaky voice.

"'Lizbeth", he repeated uncertainly, but then all the uncertainty was gone, for her face brightened immediately, and she threw herself into his arms, wrapping her hands around his neck.

Without a second thought, he closed his arms around her, relieved, and hopeful, for a moment hoping that she really remembered something.

"I heard that name, I heard it in my head", she whispered into his ear, taking a deep breath, and not knowing whether she felt more like laughing or crying right now. She could feel his scent enveloping her, and after a moment she recognized it at least partially: rum.

_Husband... 'Lizbeth... rum..._

"Black", she whispered, drawing backwards, and looking at him expectantly.

"Black?", he smiled, stroking her hair, and looking at her with such intensity, as if he was afraid that she might disappear if he did not watch her intently enough.

"What's black?", she asked, lifting her hand to touch the side of his face, a small smile playing about her lips. She did not think she would feel like that... She had thought she was gone, lost, dead... that she was unable to feel anything anymore, that she was deprived of the capability to feel... And yet when Blaxton was born she had felt a slight change, as if something had moved within her... But still it was not _that _feeling, it was not that overpowering sensation of bliss and joy. And now she felt all of that by merely brushing her fingertips against his skin...

Jack hesitated for a moment, not sure what it was exactly that she wanted to know. "The _Black Pearl_?", he said at last, the first thing that had come to his mind.

Elizabeth smiled. "What is it?", she asked, staring at him with growing fascination.

And he knew that she was not remembering anything, but apparently she was trying to make sense of some shreds of thoughts or emotions that she had.

"She's a ship. The _Black Pearl_ is a ship, luv. Our ship", he added with an impish smile, leaning toward her.

"Our ship", she echoed with a smile, leaning forward.

A ship. _The sea. _

_Husband... 'Lizbeth... rum... black... sea... _She tried to remember the rest of the words from her list, but then suddenly her mind went blank when her eyes locked with his, and she watched his lips slowly descending upon hers, and she gasped quietly at the contact, his lips pressed against hers, but not really moving, not moving at all, and she wondered what was happening, even though simultaneously she began kissing him, just trying to feel the taste of his lips, and when she started kissing him, he kissed her back, and she pressed herself more firmly against him, while he wrapped his arms around her tightly, kissing her slowly, and passionately, ravening her lips, plundering her mouth, and she deepened the kiss, elated by the intoxicating feeling, by the sweet, wild taste of his lips trapping hers, kissing, and nibbling, until she could neither breath, nor think.

She ceased to feel the ground under her feet; she was not sure whether she still was on the ground at all. His arms around her kept her from falling into the abyss of light which seemed to suddenly emerge underneath the reality, dragging her into the state of complete abandon. His lips were feverish upon hers, as if he was trying to tell her something in that kiss, as if he was trying to convince her, not even knowing that he did not have to, that she was convinced already, that she was engrossed by his touch, and every fiber of her body ached for more. He slid one of his hands into her hair, and tilted her head slightly, still kissing her with exhilarating fierceness, his teeth scraping against her bottom lip, and nibbling on it, while his other hand was running up and down her back, constantly trying to pull her closer to him.

And she found herself not caring about anything else, but that kiss to never end, because no matter how hard she tried, how fervently she kissed him, she could not grasp everything that was in his kiss, everything that she felt kissing him, everything that was being promised by his lips never leaving hers... And for the first time in the eternity, the eternity known to her, she felt free, and enraptured, and when they at last broke apart, neither seeming capable of finding their breath again, she clung to him, burying her face into his chest, listening to the beating of his heart mixed with her ragged breathing. She closed her eyes feeling his hand stroking her hair, feeling his head resting on top of hers, and she dug her nails in the fabric of his coat in order not to scream, not to scream out of some completely ridiculous necessity to articulate out loud what she felt.

After a moment she looked up, meeting his dark, entrancing gaze as he drew his hand across her face, cupping her cheek, and she leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut, and it was only a moment before she realized that his lips were once again on her face, but not on her lips only, but everywhere. He sprinkled her face with kisses, and she smiled, her eyes still closed when she began doing exactly the same thing he was doing, and she felt him smiling back at her when they were placing soft, chaotic kisses on each other's faces, until quite accidentally their lips met again. And again... and again...

"I thought I was dead...", she whispered, gasping for air, and he opened his eyes abruptly to look at her. She slowly opened her eyes, and smiled faintly.

"No, ye're not, luv", he answered in a low, serious voice, pushing away his own grim memories.

She laughed, and the tears that had welled up in her eyes flowed down her cheeks. "Will you take me away from here?", she asked, looking at him hesitantly, and his heart clenched at her actually asking him that, and in such a fragile voice too.

"'Course, Lizzie", he kissed her, and she smiled. "What else do you think I came here for?", he tucked her hair behind her ear, a shiver of incredulous bliss and reassurance running through him at the realization, which was not new, but seemed fresh every time it crossed his mind, that he had really found her, that she was here, in his arms, and even after almost a year of not seeing him, of not even knowing that he existed, and still not remembering him, she wanted to go with him, and despite all that had happened, her feelings were still there, in her heart, strong, and intact.

She smiled faintly, looking at him with glassy eyes, and as much as he was happy that she wanted to leave with him with so little explanation, and no memory, a grim thought suddenly sprung to his mind. He cupped her face in his hands, and looked at her seriously.

"Did he hurt you?", he asked, knitting his eyebrows. As unbelievable as it seemed, after what he had done William Turner certainly lost the right to be trusted.

But she shook her head 'no', and he exhaled.

"Who is he anyway?", she asked with a grimace, suddenly realizing the strangeness of the entire situation.

Jack's mouth twitched, and he almost smirked very much tempted to invent some mean story that would ground Will in Elizabeth's eyes for good. Not that the truth was not grim enough, but still...

"A very annoyin' person", he answered with slight disgust. "But we'll talk 'bout that later, luv", he said with a smile, cupping the side of her face with his hand, and stroking her cheek with his thumb.

After a moment of consideration Elizabeth nodded. Actually, he did not want to talk about that right now either. It was just terrifying that for almost a year she had been living in the same house with God knows who.

"An' coming back to our discussion", Jack leaned down, and kissed her softly, all her attention returning to him immediately. "Why would you like to go with me?", he asked, and she did not fail to notice a teasing note in his voice.

She smiled coyly, and placed her hands on his face again."I just don't like it here", she whispered, drawing some random lines on his face with her fingernails. "I like your face", she added with a small smile, before he had the time to comment on her previous statement.

"Is that so?", he asked, smiling down at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes. "In other words, ye want to leave with me one, 'cause ye're bored, an' two, 'cause I look good?"

Elizabeth giggled, and nuzzled the side of his face. "I didn't say that you look good, I just said that I like your face", she whispered into his ear, and kissed it.

He tightened his embrace around her, and held her so tightly that for a moment she could not find her breath. Burying his face in her hair he smiled. He had found her, he had her back, he really had her back.

"Jack...", she looked up at him, her eyes roaming all over his face, before they focused on his eyes again, her heart fluttering at the very sound of his name."Tell me..."

"Yes, Lizzie", he leaned down, and brushed his lips against hers.

She shifted in his arms, and cuddled closer. "You can keep doing that", she whispered, when he drew back.

Jack smiled. "I've an impression that ye wanted to ask 'bout somethin', luv", he said in a low voice, kissing the corner of her mouth.

"I can ask later...", she replied in a faltering voice, tilting her head to the side, to help his lips meet hers. She had felt so empty and lonely for so long, and for a long time she had thought that there was some fault in her, that she was unable to feel, that she was responsible for her lack of emotions... And now all that was gone. The coldness, the emptiness... Now she could feel everything, his every touch ignited million feelings in her, his every kiss threw her into a different dimension, and she felt elated by merely the fact of being locked in his arms. And she felt warm. After all those countless cold nights and days she finally felt warm, felt safe, and cared for.

"Ask now, 'Lizbeth", he breathed with a warm smile, running his hand through her hair.

She opened her eyes. "Tell me about us", she said with a smile, tracing the contour of his lips with her fingertips, and then he suddenly noticed the green ring on her finger. He smiled, and closed his eyes.

Yes, this time he could tell her about _'us'_. This time, unlike that other time, so long ago when he had eventually told her the truth, the truth about his lies, back then he could not have told her about _them_, because there was no _them _before. But now there was; there were days and nights full of memories, full of words, and colors, and sounds, and he could tell her all about that, even though he really wished she could remember it... So many beautiful moments... She should remember them, she should...

The thought brought to him other thoughts concerning the spell, Will's wish. But now there was no time for that. When Gibbs brings Will they will talk about that. There must be a way of undoing it, there always was a remedy for every illness, and every charm. Why not for this one?

"Us", he smiled, and rested his forehead against hers. "We sailed the seven seas", he murmured, closing his eyes. "Have been to hell..." Elizabeth frowned slightly, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "An' heaven", he opened his eyes, and flashed her a roguish smile.

"I like the last part", she whispered, the words muffled by his lips descending onto hers once again. She smiled against his lips, and he kissed her slowly, ardently, possessively, until there was nothing left in her mind, and in her heart apart from that sweet, overwhelming feeling of belonging, of... love. Love!... Suddenly, that feeling which had been hidden within her, that feeling which she was unable to connect with anything, and anybody, that strangely strong, but unassociated feeling seemed to find its rightful place, and it flowed from within her into that kiss, into him, and she felt as if she was about to cry, cry over a miracle that she had learnt to regard as an impossible dream.

And she heard a cry... Only it was not her who was crying... She reluctantly broke the kiss, and met his puzzled, darkly confused gaze. And then she heard it again.

Blaxton must have woken up.

* * *

Gibbs had followed Will to the blacksmith shop, and watched from the distance as he had entered the building. Coming closer, he decided to wait outside for those few hours after which he was supposed to bring Will back to the house. 

After an hour of waiting, he saw an elderly man walking into the shop. Gibbs moved to the nearby window to eavesdrop the conversation, and heard them discussing travelling to Black River to complete some business transaction. No doubt the trip would take them longer that those few hours, and Gibbs was not sure whether Jack fancied waiting for Will until late evening. He grimaced, and rubbed his forehead, at last deciding that he had to make his appearance in order to keep Will from leaving.

Reluctantly, he walked to the door, and opened them, slowly stepping inside. The interiors were bright, and neatly organized, and the room was rather spacial.

Will and the other man did not notice him immediately, occupied by the conversation.

Suddenly, and apparently accidentally Will looked up, and met Gibbs' gaze. It struck Gibbs how worn out Will looked. His posture, his face, his eyes... He seemed as if he had aged twenty years during these ten months.

The elderly man who stood with his back turned to Gibbs continued talking, but when he noticed Will's suddenly very pale face he fell silent, and looked over his shoulder.

"Good day", said Gibbs in a casual tone of voice.

"Good day", answered Mr. Roggson, glancing between Will and the stranger.

"How are ye, Will?", Gibbs extended his hand to him, and Will for a moment just stared at him wide-eyed, and only when Mr. Roggson shot him a curious look, he shook himself off his reverie, and shook hands with Gibbs, trying to regain his composure.

"This is...", he started in a hollow voice, but Gibbs interrupted him.

"Joshamee Gibbs", he introduced himself joyfully, outstretching his hand to Mr. Roggson, who shook it with a smile, giving his name as well. "An old friend", he added with a perfect cheerfulness, glancing at Will, who averted his eyes.

"That's wonderful", nodded Mr. Roggson. "Always nice to have friends visiting."

Gibbs nodded, and the two men exchanged some polite remarks, before at last Mr. Roggson said that in such a case his and Will's trip to Black River may definitely wait, as Will would surely prefer to take care of his guest right now.

Mr. Roggson said his good-bye, and left the shop with a smile, yet still slightly puzzled by the look on Will's face. But perhaps the boy was just surprised. What else could that be?

When the elderly man left the shop, Will did not move, his eyes fixed absently on the door. For some reason he did not even feel surprised... Or maybe he was just too jaded to feel surprised by anything. And also, in a way, perhaps he had always subconsciously expected that to happen, even though he had done what he could to make sure that it would not happen.

Gibbs looked at him solemnly, but despite being rather upset with Will, and his actions, and the way in which he had deceived him, starting that terrible chain of events which could have resulted in Jack's death, he could not help but feel a bit of compassion as he looked at Will's resigned, sad face.

"Jack's with Elizabeth. I'm to bring ye back in a couple of hours. It seems that we'll be in need of some explanations", he said at last in a low voice, breaking the silence.

To his surprise Will did not seem dismayed, or even moved by what Gibbs had just said. He hardly looked as if he cared.

Taking a step to the side, Will slowly slumped down into a chair, and whispered: "Good." Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "I'm tired", added Will in an exhausted voice, and hid his head in his hands.

* * *

Jack watched in bewilderment as Elizabeth slipped out of his embrace, and quickly ran across the hallway toward the room. He stared after her, listening to the sound, which he refused to interpret. 

Slowly, he walked in the direction of the room.

...But it was not her fault, was it? She had not known, she had thought... His mind began producing some random explanations, justifications, possibilities, even though he did not really acknowledge yet the source of the sound... the source of the crying...

He stopped in the doorway, frozen to the spot by the unexpected sight: Elizabeth was standing next to the crib, and she was... holding a baby. A _baby_. An infant. A small child. A child. A baby.

Lizzie's baby.

Lizzie's and-

"You have his eyes...", whispered Elizabeth with a hint of wonder in her voice, smiling at the baby in her arms.

Jack blinked, and looked at her intently, noticing that she was apparently not aware of his presence in the room. Cautiously, he took a few steps forward, and cleared his throat, looking at her uncertainly.

Elizabeth turned around, and smiled at him so brightly, that all of a sudden all his gloomy bafflement was gone. She nodded at him to come closer, and he did, although there was still a perplexed look on his face.

Keeping his eyes fixed on Elizabeth's face, Jack came up closer to her. She bit her lip, and glanced at Blaxton who shifted his eyes to Jack, and looked at him curiously, trying to reach him (or rather perhaps those funny, jingling objects in his hair) with his little hands.

"Look at him", said Elizabeth in a soft voice, smiling. She did not know exactly how to say what she wanted to say...

Jack looked at her for a moment yet, as if hoping that she would take back her request, but she kept smiling at him, so at last he gave in, and slowly shifted his gaze to the baby's face... and blinked.

"_You have his eyes..."_

The baby laughed, apparently amused by Jack's facial expression. Jack darted his eyes to Elizabeth, and then back to the baby, to the little boy who seemed to be watching him with great interest flickering in his brown eyes. Elizabeth looked at Jack from under her eyelashes, smiling as the look on his face changed gradually from grim confusion, through cautious disbelief, to jubilant astonishment.

She leaned over the baby, and placed a soft kiss on Jack's cheek.

"His name's Blaxton", she said quietly, when he turned his head to meet her eyes. "He's two-month old, and he is very smart", said Elizabeth grinning at the little boy, who giggled in response in apparent agreement. "Give him your hand", she said, glancing at Jack who still did not manage to utter a single word, staring at the baby, as if hypnotized. "He likes to grab things", she added with a smile, seeing Jack's dumbfounded gaze.

Jack looked at her, slowly recovering from shock. "Oh", he mumbled, still dazed, and lifted his hand, unsure what he was supposed to exactly do with it. But he did not have to ponder it for too long, for as soon as his ringed fingers appeared within Blaxton's reach, he grabbed one of Jack's fingers, and closed his tiny fists around it.

Elizabeth watched Jack with an anxious smile. His mouth twitched, and he swallowed, and she was not sure, but she thought that his hand trembled at the baby's touch. She looked at him, as he stared at his little son who seemed to be very much interested in Jack's rings, and soon he abandoned his fingers, and began an adorably clumsy examination of one of the rings, the look of amusement on his tiny face, turning into an expression of deep concentration.

Elizabeth shifted her eyes to Blaxton, and smiled at him, and at the serious look in his brown eyes. And then she looked back at Jack, feeling his eyes, shining, and solemn, and... sad? on her, and they locked eyes for the first time since he had seen the baby.

"I'm sorry", he said very quietly, looking at her intently. Elizabeth lightly shook her head in puzzlement. "You've been alone with all of that, throughout that time", he added, and she looked at him with growing amazement.

"I-", she started, but could not finish, because he leaned over the baby, and kissed her softly on the lips.

And Blaxton would not really mind, if it was not for Jack to unconsciously withdraw his hand from his grasp to cup the side of Elizabeth's face with it. Having his scrutiny of a particularly interesting ring so rudely interrupted, the baby grimaced, and kicked his foot, accidentally hitting Jack's chin.

"Oi", Jack broke the kiss, and looked at the little boy putting on a hurt look, which for some reason made Blaxton giggle.

"You've taken your hand away", said Elizabeth with a smile. "He doesn't like having things taken away from him." She leaned down, and kiss the baby's forehead.

"Neither do I", said Jack in a low voice, and Elizabeth looked up at him, and bit her lip. "I love you, 'Lizbeth", he said under his breath, looking at her intensely. "You, and him", he added glancing at the baby with a cordial smile. "An' whatever force allowed me to met ye before, an' find ye today."

She looked at him for a moment wordlessly, and then turned around, and sweetly whispering some words to the baby, gently lie Blaxton down in the crib, and turned to Jack, who pulled her into an embrace as soon as she turned around.

"I knew you existed", she said hardly above a whisper, cupping his face in her hands, and before he replied anything, "I would love you even if I would have never met you", she added in a solemn voice, and pressed her lips to his in a brief kiss. "Do you understand?", she asked with determination in her voice, looking at him with glassy eyes.

Jack smiled, and stroked her hair regarding her with glimmering eyes. "I do, Lizzie, I do understand", he whispered with a smile, and kissed her again.

* * *

"Ye ain't doin' it right", said Ragetti in a quiet, and hesitant tone of voice, after patiently watching Pintel tying a knot for a while. 

"What?", snapped Pintel, looking up at him, annoyed.

Ragetti swallowed. "It's supposed t' be a clove hitch, an' ye're doin' a reef knot." Pintel wrinkled his forehead in irritation. "An'", continued bravely Ragetti, "An' ye ain't even 'ave a second line to-"

"Listen ye, mister knot expert", interrupted him Pintel, taking a step towards Ragetti, and glaring at him menacingly. "If ye-", he stopped in mid-sentence, and turned his head abruptly. "Did ye hear that?", he asked, looking around the _Black Pearl_'s main deck searchingly.

"Hear what?", asked Ragetti, following Pintel's gaze in bafflement.

"Hear what I heard!", Pintel gritted his teeth, still looking around.

"An' what did ye hear?", inquired Ragetti with genuine interest.

Pintel rolled his eyes. "I heard _somethin'_", he hissed with annoyance. "Did ye hear somethin' too?"

Ragetti blinked, and considered it for a moment. "I heard somethin'", he said at last with a sly smile. Pintel shifted his eyes to him expectantly. "I heard yer voice", announced Ragetti proudly, but then his facial expression fell, when he met Pintel's deadly gaze.

"Somethin' else!", exclaimed Pintel irately.

"Ye said '_somethin_'", replied Ragetti defensively.

"But I ain't mean me voice, ye idiot!!", bellowed Pintel, shaking his fist at Ragetti, but then he fell silent at the sight of Ragetti's real eye widening.

"What?!", screamed Pintel angrily, and turned around to see what Ragetti was staring at.

And then his own eyes widened as well.


	79. Chapter 79

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 79**

"Sounds beautiful", whispered Elizabeth with a sigh, nestling her head into Jack's neck. They were sitting on the floor, their backs resting against the settee.

Jack pulled her closer with his arm wrapped around her shoulders, and it reminded him of that night on the rum-runners island, even though right now it was broad daylight, and the girl in his arms was not Miss Swann, but Mrs. Sparrow, and instead of the bonfire there was the crib with the sleeping baby, _their _baby in it.

"A pirate's life for me", hummed Jack into her hair, and she smiled.

"I don't think I remember how to steer", whispered Elizabeth thoughtfully after a pause, lightly tapping her fingers on Jack's chin.

"I think ye do, Lizzie", he said, sifting her hair through his fingers, and thinking how much he had missed doing that. "But even if ye don't, I may be inclined to teach ye."

Elizabeth tilted her to the side, and looked up at him with playfully narrowed eyes. "You _may _be_ inclined _to teach me?", she asked raising her eyebrows.

"Aye", said Jack with a roguish smile. "If ye'd _persuade_ me", he whispered, brushing his lips over her ear. "If ye'd convince me that ye really want to learn."

Elizabeth inched her face closer to his. "I can start right now", she whispered, and smiled when he seemed clearly taken aback by her immediate answer.

And it crossed Jack's mind just how much suffering might have been avoided if she would have given him an answer like that all those _years _ago, when he had challenged her to persuade him for the very first time...

"I couldn't be more tempted to oblige", he said after a moment, drawing his hand across her face. "But perhaps we should postpone that until we'll be back on the _Pearl_."

Elizabeth leaned into his touch, and watched him for a while as he was caressing her face with the back of his hand, and she noticed a glimpse of something in his eyes, something that she could not quite place, a flash of sadness, or annoyance, or...

She bit her lip, and slid out of his embrace, quickly standing up, only to swiftly sit down again, but this time in Jack's lap. He smiled, wrapped his arms around her, and wanted to kiss her, but she stopped him by cradling his face in her hands, and looking at him with utmost seriousness.

"Jack", she said, smiling inwardly at the tingling sensation that she felt every time she uttered his name. But she pushed the thought aside for the time being, trying to focus on what she believed was the reason for that strange shadow that had just flitted across his face. "Just ask me."

Jack blinked, sincerely baffled. "Ask ye what, luv?", he asked, looking at her curiously.

"I know what you're thinking of", she said with a sigh, brushing her thumbs along his lips. "You're thinking about me..." He smirked. "And him", she added quietly.

Jack's smirk turned into a frown. "Lizzie, I'd rather not-"

"Jack-", she tried to interrupt him.

"I mean it", he cut her off, looking at her intently.

"But-"

"I don't blame ye for anythin'", he cut in, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes, apparently annoyed, but he ignored her. "Know that. But I don't wish to talk 'bout it either."

"Would you let me say something, please?", she asked, crossing her arms over her chest, and looking him straight in the eyes.

He seemed to actually consider her question. "Aye", he said at last, unconvinced. "Although-"

Elizabeth silenced him by placing her fingertips on his lips. His eyes darted to her hand, and then back to her eyes. She rested her forehead against his, still looking into his eyes, a small smile hovering over her lips.

"I told you how I felt, for all this time, that something was wrong, that...", she trailed off, and moved her fingers to his cheek, tapping her fingertips against it. He watched her in silence, even though she could tell from the look in his eyes, that he was ready to interrupt her at any moment. "That somebody, that _you_", she smiled, "were somewhere out there."

"Lizzie-"

Elizabeth drew back, and huffed in annoyance, and he rolled his eyes, and fell silent, but looked fairly annoyed himself.

"What I'm _trying _to say", she said, keeping herself from smiling at the childishly frowning look on his face, "is that... is that I never...", she paused, cupped his face in her hands, squeezing it playfully. "I _never_... was... with him", she whispered slowly, looking at Jack intently holding back laughter, for his face squeezed between her hands looked rather funny. Jack blinked. "He kissed me ... once or twice", she said with a frown. "But we never... not once, I swear. Is that clear?" she demanded with a smile, and then nodded Jack's head for him, and giggled.

He looked at her, and she let go of his face to see his real facial expression, and not the funny look caused by her hands squeezing his face. But as soon as she drew her hands away, he pulled her into a kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she glided her hands over his chest, and around his neck.

"So you really thought-", Elizabeth broke the kiss, gasping for air, and looking at Jack through half-lidded eyes.

"I didn't think anything, Lizzie", cut in Jack, running his hand through her hair. "But I think now I _may_ consider shooting him instead of keelhauling", he added, waggling his eyebrows in halfhearted playfulness.

Elizabeth smiled faintly, and rested her forehead against his. "How about you?", she asked quietly.

"Me?", Jack closed her arms around her, a glimpse of amusement flashing in his eyes. "No, I don't think I'm going to either shoot, or keelhaul... me."

"Jack!", Elizabeth pulled away with a slight frown.

"What luv?", he asked innocently, putting on a puzzled look.

"You know what I'm asking of", said Elizabeth narrowing her eyes.

Jack widened his eyes at her. "No", he shook his head. "I'm afraid I'm at a loss, luv."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, still smiling, but then her smile slowly faded. She put her hands in her lap, and looked at them thoughtfully. "You said that for some time you thought me dead", she said under her breath. Jack furrowed his brows. "So I guess I can't really- Jack!"

Elizabeth stared up at him, astonished, when he had suddenly pushed her onto the floor, pinning her hands on either side of her head. He looked at her for a moment intensely, and she held his gaze in silence.

At last he took a deep breath, and leaned down toward her, his lips almost brushing against hers. "'Lizbeth, I...", he closed his eyes, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I couldn't even breath", he opened his eyes, tilting his head backwards to look into her face. "I was thinkin' 'bout ye days an' nights...", he paused, knitted his eyebrows, and averted his eyes. "Perhaps nights an' days would be a better sequence-" Elizabeth smiled, and hit him playfully on the shoulder. Jack looked back at her. "It's you or death, Lizzie", he whispered firmly, slowly touching her lips with his, while she kept her eyes open, her gaze fixed on him in wonder, amazement, and a little bit of sorrow...

"Don't say tha-", she whispered against his lips, but he silenced her with a kiss.

"I already did, luv", he answered, his eyes glittering darkly down at her.

Elizabeth smiled faintly, and slid one of her hands out of his grasp to touch his face. "May I ask you a silly question?", she tilted her head to the side.

Jack smirked, and drew his lips along her jawline, and her neck. "Aye", he whispered into her ear smilingly.

She took a sharp intake of breath, not as much because of the question she was about to ask, but rather because of that overwhelming, heated feeling of bliss that began coursing slowly through her body, and she suddenly remembered that in fact she did not remember how it was to be with him...

"I have a...", she started quietly. "I've been keeping a list of words that I felt that meant something... that I felt were important...", she gasped, feeling him planting open-mouthed kisses on her collarbone, and was _almost _grateful when he stopped, and looked up at her.

"Ah", he smiled. "So that's where _black_ came from, aye?", he leaned down, and kissed her, and she was not able to do much more than nod weakly in half-conscious agreement.

"And the _sea_", she added breathlessly between kisses.

Jack grinned. "What else?", he inquired, gently pulling the dress off one of her shoulders, still watching her face.

Elizabeth closed her eyes. "_Husband_...", she breathed, shivering under the touch of his smiling lips brushing against her skin. "And... _Rum_..." Jack chuckled, and shifted her eyes to her, clearly amused.

"Incredible. Truly, luv", he said with a smile.

Elizabeth giggled. "Yes, but... coming back to my question... On my list I had also...", she paused, and smiled hesitantly, "a _bath_..." She searched Jack's face for his reaction, but he just looked at her steadily for a moment, and she began to think that he had no idea why she might possibly have any special associations with that word, but then she noticed a flash of mischief in his eyes. His lips slowly stretched into a roguish smile, and she blushed at the very thought as to what that kind of smile might possibly signify, when he leaned down, and whispered simply:

"That's be our... engagement party."

"Engagement", Elizabeth blinked, perplexed. "Party", she repeated incredulously. Jack nodded. "In a bath", she said doubtfully, but Jack nodded again, and she had to admit that he actually looked serious.

"Aye. The engagement party, an'...", he paused, and smirked, now, for a change deeply amused. "And our engagement...", he kissed her gently, "night." He gave her his lopsided grin, as she stared at him wide-eyed, half-indignant, and half... fascinated.

"You- you mean", she stammered, smiling shyly. "That you... seduced me before we got married?"

Jack blinked, genuinely taken aback by the question, subconsciously realizing just how much yet there was left to be told, and recount, and explain, and cry over...

"Luv", he smiled at her impishly, entangling his fingers in her hair. "I believe I seduced ye the moment I saw ye for the very first time", he whispered, capturing her lips into another ardent kiss, and she quickly gave in to the intoxicating feeling caused by his closeness, to his lips endowing every shiver of her body with meaning, to his voice setting her mind ablaze; the fire coursing through her, hot, frightening, demanding... Irresistible.

She slipped her hand into his dreadlocks, and wanted to slid it onto his shoulder, but somehow she could not move it. She pulled, and Jack's muffled 'oi' made her open her eyes, and she noticed that one of his trinkets had got caught in her bracelet. Laughing, she quickly disentangled the two objects, and wanted to continue kissing, but Jack gently grasped her hand, and narrowed his eyes.

"What's this?", he asked, scrutinizing the bracelet curiously.

Elizabeth looked at bracelet, and shrugged her shoulders. "My mother's-", she trailed off, and grimaced. Jack darted his eyes from the bracelet to her face. "I mean... _he _said that it was my mother's, but...", he bit her lip, when Jack tried to take it off. "I can't take it off." They exchanged silent looks.

"I think I know what it is", he muttered, squinting.

* * *

Gibbs and Will walked slowly along the path, the sun shining down on the green meadows on both sides of the road. Gibbs watched Will out of the corner of his eye, slightly surprised that he had not asked him any questions yet. He actually expected Will to inquire as to how had they found them, what Jack was going to do... But Will kept silent, neither asking questions, nor trying to explain or justify his own actions. He really seemed not to care, or perhaps, as he had said, he was just to tired to care. 

When they reached the house Gibbs knocked, hoping that meeting between Jack and Elizabeth had gone well. He had no doubt that Jack was able to make her believe the truth, to convince her who he was, but still there was a lot that could have happened during those ten months, and he was worrying that maybe Elizabeth would not want to leave with them... Although, judging from Will's behaviour they had been living here not a particularly happy life...

Gibbs knocked again, but again there was no answer, so he cautiously pushed the door open, and walked inside, followed by Will. He wanted to call Jack, but before he did, he heard amused voices, and muffled laughter, and he sighed with relief, smiling inwardly.

Confidently, he walked towards the room, and entered before bothering to announce his presence, which he soon came to regret, suddenly coming across a scene, which evoked a rather disturbing feeling of loss in him, because as far as he remembered last time when he had walked in on a situation like that, he was deprived of rum, and condemned to water for couple of days...

Gibbs cleared his throat. "I-I'm sorry", he said in a low voice, averting his eyes, and in an effort to find something to look at, his gaze stopped at the crib, causing his eyes to widen.

Jack and Elizabeth broke the kiss, and stared at each other, before Jack gaze travelled to Gibbs who was at the moment rather transfixed by the crib, and not paying attention to the pair on the floor anymore.

Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Jack staggered to his feet, helping Elizabeth up. She blushed, looking uncertainly between Jack and the stranger, and fixing her half-unbuttoned dress.

"That's only Gibbs. Me first mate", Jack whispered into her ear with a reassuring smile, kissing her on the cheek. "Mister Gibbs", Jack raised his eyebrows, looking at Gibbs questioningly. "Mister Gibbs", he repeated finally attracting Gibbs' attention.

"Aye", mumbled Gibbs, his eyes widening even more, when Elizabeth reached into the crib, and took the baby, which having apparently sensed the commotion had woken up, into her arms.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "Yer manners have me worried, mate. Perhaps ye could introduce yerself to me wife first, an' then continue starin' at me son", he said in a mockingly stern tone of voice.

"Aye", Gibbs nodded quickly, but then blinked, and looked between Jack, Elizabeth, and the baby in bewilderment, before the news at last made its way into his dumbfounded mind. But when at last it did, Gibbs smiled broadly, finally able to utter a proper greeting.

"Are ye alone?" Jack's voice interrupted his cheerful conversation with Elizabeth.

Gibbs blinked, suddenly remembering that he had forgotten to make sure that Will had followed him into the house, although he had not seemed like someone who was going to run away, if only for the pitiful look on his face.

Gibbs turned around, and went back to the wall, hoping that he was right not worry about that, and indeed Will was still standing in the hallway, his back resting against the wall, and his eyes fixed on the opposite side of the corridor.

Gibbs came back to the room, and nodded.

"Jack, what's going on?", asked Elizabeth, looking between Jack, and Gibbs hesitantly.

"It's nothin', luv", answered Jack with a smile, pulling Elizabeth into an embrace. Blaxton tilted his head to the side, and looked at Jack with wide eyes, simultaneously reaching his hand to grab a lock of Elizabeth's hair. "I think the wee one is a tad bit jealous 'bout his mom", whispered Jack, amused by the intent way in which the baby's curious eyes followed his every movement.

"He is just unused to company in general", replied Elizabeth, smiling at Blaxton until he began to squeal happily.

Jack watched her for a moment with a thoughtful smile, thinking how strange, once again, life proved to be, restoring everything that he had lost, and giving him even more than he had hoped to find.

"Lizzie...", he started, cupping the side of her face in his hand, and she shifted her smiling eyes from the baby to him, and it struck him, that change that had taken place in her, because somehow he could not have ever imagined her as a mother, not because he had had any doubts about her being the most wonderful and caring mother someday, but rather because it was just something he had not thought much about in general. Not to mention that he had thought even less about himself as a father. "Please wait here with Gibbs, an' I'll", he frowned slightly. "An' I will have a very brief, an' concise conversation outside, an' then we'll go back to the _Black Pearl_, aye?", he smiled.

"But Jack-"

He kissed her, and she smiled. "But I think you should stay here, and we'll go outside", said Elizabeth, disentangling Blaxton's hand from her hair, and kissing it. "We have to get some fresh air, right?", she said smiling at their little son, who seemed to like the idea, because he waved his little hands, and giggled.

Jack seemed unconvinced, but after a moment of consideration, and a sweet kiss complied.

Walking into the corridor, Elizabeth stopped in her tracks at the sight of Will. She stared at him, and he slowly looked up to meet her gaze, not able to interpret it, for it was almost as blank as his, although probably for a different reason.

He wanted to say something, he felt that he should say something, and yet he could not bring himself to saying anything. What could he say? That he was sorry? That he had made a mistake? That he had stolen almost a year of her life to come to the brilliant conclusion that he was wrong as to her feelings, as to Jack's feelings? That he would not have done it again?

That she had lost her memory because of him, and that there was no way to undo it...

He stiffened under her gaze, suddenly realizing that there was more sadness than anger in her eyes, and he averted his eyes unable to stand it, her sorrow, or her regret, or her pity, whichever it was.

"Lizzie."

Jack's voice shook Elizabeth off her reverie, and she gave him a faint smile, and nodded, following Gibbs outside, and out of the house, walking passed Will with an unmoving face.

The door closed, and the house was suddenly strikingly silent.

Turning around, Jack shoot Will a long, stern look, and went back to the room. Will watched him out of the corner of his eye, and after a moment followed him to the room.

"Would ye like to sit down, perhaps?", asked Jack, narrowing his eyes, and grabbing a chair. After scrutinizing it meticulously for a moment, he put it down, and kicked it. The chair flew across the room, and crashed against the wall.

"No, thank you", said Will, glancing at Jack blankly.

Jack sneered faintly. "Had to ask, hate to be rude."

"Go ahead", said Will, lifting his eyes from the floor to Jack's frowning face. "Kill me. Let's have it over it."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Kill ye?", he widened his eyes at Will. "Ye can kill yerself if ye want", said Jack, looking around the room disinterestedly. Will squinted. "I haven't waited here all day t' waste me time crushin' bugs", he said, walking towards a bookshelf.

"What do you want then?", asked Will wearily.

Jack cautiously took a porcelaine vase from one of the shelves, tilted his head to the side, and after looking at it for a moment, dropped it to the floor. "Oh, ye don't know?", he asked with a small, sour smile, taking a step over the shards.

"I'm afraid I don-", retorted Will with a hint of exhausted irritation in his voice, but his sentence was interrupted when Jack suddenly caught him by his shirt, and shoved him against the wall.

"How dare ye sound _tired_", hissed Jack menacingly. "How dare ye even speak."

Will looked at him blankly. "I am tired", he said hollowly.

Jack snorted contemptuously. "I'm _so_ sorry", he said mockingly, and threw Will to the floor. "He's tired", Jack muttered to himself sardonically, shaking his head in dark amusement, past months flashing across his mind like cold thunders.

Slowly, Will got up from the floor, half-expecting Jack to kick him, or push him back to the ground, but Jack just stood a few steps away from him, watching him grimly.

"I want ye to give Elizabeth her memory back", he said in a low voice, looking at Will intensely.

Will scanned the room absently. "I can't", he whispered, his gaze stopping at the shards of the vase.

Jack's brows furrowed. "Ye can't", he echoed coolly "What is that supposed to mean?", he asked through his gritted teeth.

Will shifted his eyes to him. "It's a charm, a wish-", he started, but Jack cut him off.

"I know 'bout yer bloody wish", he said sharply.

Will seemed only mildly surprised, and, as absurd as it was, it crossed Jack's mind that... he really was tired.

"It's the bracelet...", added Will under his breath.

"Figured that much", replied Jack in a cold voice, looking at Will intently.

"I can't take it off. Nobody can", said Will running his hands across his face. "I'm sorry", he whispered almost inaudibly.

Jack stared at him for a moment in silence, trying to decide whether he should believe him. There was no reason why he should lie, and yet there was no reason why he should not lie as well. And yet he seemed to be telling the truth, and Jack felt a twinge of regret, and disappointment that all Elizabeth's memories were irretrievably gone, even though it was only a small inconvenience in comparison to everything that had happened. They could live without it. He would just tell her everything, _show _her everything, he thought with a faint, inward smirk. They could just relive the past as much as possible, and then move on, like he had planned to do the first time she had lost her memory. Then, it had not worried him that much, maybe because it was not mostly the memories concerning him that she had lost, but rather all those memories that could have stood in between them. And now it was _their_ memories that were lost, their moments, their days, and nights, their gazes, and whispers.

"Awfully late for bein' sorry", said Jack still bitterly, but with much less venom in his voice than Will had expected.

"I know", whispered Will, staring blankly into the distance, and after a moment of silence said quietly, almost to himself. "She loves you."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him. "Thank ye for tellin' me. Would've _never _noticed that myself."

"You don't understand", cut in Will in a low tone of voice. "I thought that she doesn't... I thought that you don't... not really", he hid his face in his hands, and sighed.

"Oh, I'm glad that ruinin' everybody's life allowed ye to finally make that startlin' discovery", said Jack coldly.

Will uncovered his face, and looked at Jack tiredly. "You have no idea", he said in a thoughtful, and hollow tone of voice. Jack wrinkled his forehead. "You have no idea how startling", added Will ruefully, averting his eyes.

* * *

"Blaxton Weatherby", said Elizabeth with a smile, answering Gibbs' question. 

They strolled outside the house, Elizabeth carrying the baby, and Gibbs walking beside her, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by the situation. He had never even tried to imagine Jack being a father, nor had he imagined Elizabeth being a mother for that matter. For him she was to some extent still a young girl for whom he felt responsible whenever she was within his eyesight. And now, looking at the small black-haired, and brown-eyed boy in Elizabeth's arms, he felt almost like... a grandfather, and the realization gave him a funny feeling, making him think about his age all of a sudden.

They walked, and talked, and he told Elizabeth about the _Black Pearl_, answering her inquiries, and also learning quite a bit about her life in the village.

He told her what he could, omitting all the bad things, leaving it to Jack to decide whether he wanted to tell her about the grimmer events, even though he doubted that Jack could hide the third bullet hole before his wife, even if he wanted too... Although he might as well find some fancy explanation for that, no doubt.

"I'm worried..." Elizabeth's voice broke into Gibbs' thoughts, and he turned his head to look at Elizabeth with a smile. "Maybe...", she continued, before he had the time to ask her what she was worried about. "Mr. Gibbs, maybe you could go inside, and see whether everything is alright?", Elizabeth smiled up at Gibbs sheepishly, closing Blaxton's little fist in her hand.

Gibbs considered her request for a moment. He did not think Jack was in any danger, neither was Will, for that matter. But Elizabeth's pleading eyes, and the fact that it would not hurt to check, after all, made him nod his head in agreement.

"Thank you", said Elizabeth with a grateful smile, rocking the baby as she watched Gibbs walking away towards the house, and soon disappearing inside the building.

She shifted her eyes to Blaxton, who looked at her intently, while playing what seemed to be his favorite game as of late: pulling her hair, and watching her face to see her reaction, and giggling every time Elizabeth tried to free her locks from his tiny grasp.

"We'll go to see a _beautiful_ ship today", Elizabeth smiled at her little son. She had the impression that he always understood everything that she was telling him, for he always looked at her very intently when she was talking to him, and his eyes glimmered curiously, as if he was listening to her with great interest. "The ship is called the _Black Pearl_, and from now on we'll be living there. On the sea", she added, smiling brightly, and expecting Blaxton to smile back at her like he always did, but for some reason he did not smile this time, but his eyes flickered away from her face to look over her shoulder.

The baby grimaced, and Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise, but before it even crossed her mind to turn around, somebody's hand covered her mouth, and she found herself pressed against somebody from behind, a pistol suddenly appearing in front of her.

Blaxton grimaced again, and burst out crying, while Elizabeth held him close, trying to snatch herself and him away from whoever was attacking them, but suddenly she stilled her movements at the sound of a raspy voice whispering into her ear:

"One _unwise _move, an'..."

Elizabeth shook her head furiously, when the person behind her neared the pistol to Blaxton's head, and cocked it. She moaned desperately, and stood as still as she could.

"Much better", said the man with a sneer. "It's been a long time since our last meetin'. But don't worry, everythin' that'd be happenin' from now on was worth waitin' for, I assure ye."


	80. Chapter 80

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

**Chapter 80**

When Gibbs entered the room, Will was sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, while Jack was sitting on the floor with his back resting against the wall. The atmosphere was predominantly gloomy, but for some reason Gibbs found the sight rather amusing.

"Elizabeth asked me to see if ye're alright", he said answering Jack's questioning look.

Jack smiled faintly.

"I wish it would have never happened", muttered Will grimly, his voice muffled by his hands still covering his face. "None of it. Never."

"Oh, shut it", snapped Jack, staggering to his feet, rather annoyed that instead of the arrogant whelp whose neck he could have justly broken, he had found a broken man, who seemed not to care about his neck at all.

Gibbs stifled a chuckle. "So... are we leavin'?", he asked hesitantly.

"Aye. Leavin' we are", answered Jack under his breath, and Gibbs decided to postpone his further inquiries until a more opportune moment. "Go ask 'Lizbeth if she wants to take anythin'", said Jack, knitting his eyebrows.

Gibbs nodded, and made to leave, but stopped dead in his tracks, before exiting the room.

"That won't be necessary."

Jack froze in mid-action at the sound of the familiar voice. Will slowly looked up, and then jumped to his feet, his eyes widening at the sight.

"Isn't that a grand gatherin'", said Barbossa with a broad smile, walking into the room, his heavy steps resounding in the perfect silence that had fallen the moment he had appeared.

Jack pulled out his pistol, and aimed it at Barbossa, who sneered in response.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that", he said, squinting. "I told my crew that if I wouldn't be back in three hours they are t' kill the bastard, an' do whatever they want with the wench", he sneered. "So if I were ye, I'd make sure that I'll reach my ship in _best_ health."

Jack did not lower his pistol. "Where's Elizabeth", he asked in a low voice. He should have expected Barbossa's appearance. He should have expected his appearance in the least opportune moment.

"Jack, ye're not payin' attention, are ye?", Barbossa went over to the settee, limping slightly. "My ship", he said, slumping down. "The _Black Pearl_", he amended smilingly, glancing at Jack to see his reaction, but Jack's face was serious, and unreadable, and it did not even twitch at the mentioning of the _Pearl_.

"How did you get here?", asked Will with a grimace, staring at Barbossa incredulously, wearied anger burning in his eyes.

Barbossa snarled. "Ye were not difficult to follow, Mr. Turner. I don't think ye've taken any precautions, _except_", he stressed the word, and looked at Will sarcastically. "Except for ceding on me the blame for some truly abhorrent acts that have never even been committed." Barbossa narrowed his eyes in a sweetish smile. "At least... not ye-", he stopped in mid-sentence, and looked up at Jack questioningly.

"An' why I shouldn't just kill ye, an' then show up on the ship before the three hours were up?", asked Jack pressing his pistol to Barbossa's temple.

"A fine question, that is", answered Barbossa calmly. "An' I have a very good answer to that too."

"An' I'm _dying_ for that answer to be revealed", said Jack through his gritted teeth.

"Dying", Barbossa smiled. "I must say ye did catch me by surprise with that", he said with a sigh. "Oh, did ye know Mr. Turner?", Barbossa slightly straightened up to glance at Will, Jack's pistol never leaving his temple. "After yer as dishonorable as hopeless quasi-elopement, he shot himself." Will blinked. "To no avail, as we all see, but still. Ye could've had blood on yer hands. What a comfort, ye do not, isn't it?", Barbossa sat back, making himself comfortable on the settee, clearly enjoying the situation.

Will narrowed his eyes, and clenched his fists wanting to punch Barbossa if only for reminding him about that night. And he was also taken aback by the fact that Jack had tried to kill himself... He really loved Elizabeth... He really did love her...

"That was a digression, I believe", whispered Jack angrily.

"Aye", answered Barbossa almost cheerfully. "Yer wearied crew is in the brig. An' my crew is wary, so I wouldn't try anythin'. Shall we discuss my conditions, then?", he asked with a smile. "For releasin' yer lovely wife", he added in response to Jack's hard, and unchanged look. "Unless ye're not interested in 'er anymore", he sneered, and then, noticing Gibbs attempting to slip out of the room, he roughly pulled out his own pistol, and fired toward the door, hitting the doorknob which fell to the floor with a clinging noise.

Jack took the opportunity to knock Barbossa's pistol out of his hand, pressing his own to his chest.

"I thought I explained the reasons why ye shouldn't do this quite thoroughly" said Barbossa with a sigh.

"What do ye want?", asked Jack coldly.

"At last ye decided t' start askin' the right questions", said Barbossa contentedly. "I want only three things, but luckily for ye I already got one thing that I wanted", he paused, "which is my ship", he smiled. "Therefore ye've to provide me with just two more objects. It's almost embarassin', don't ye think?"

"So is yer existence", retorted Jack darkly.

Barbossa smiled. "Ye may also consider bein' nicer t' me, Jack, 'cause if I decide that I don't like yer manner of speakin', ye may find that ye won't like the state in which yer beloved will be returned to ye."

Jack cocked his pistol.

"You've been following us" cut in Will, still trying to comprehend the situation.

"Oh, have I been as ungrateful as not t' thank ye yet for bringin' me safely to land on board the _Flying Dutchman_?", Barbossa snorted, and stood up, nonchalantly brushing Jack's pistol away.

"We searched the ship", said Will lowly.

"Ye underestimate me, Mr. Turner", said Barbossa, glancing at Will with amusement.

"What do ye want?", asked Jack through his gritted teeth.

Barbossa turned to him. "Aqua de Vida from ye, an' the heart of the Captain of the _Flying Dutchman_ from him", said Barbossa, looking over at Will. "If ye happen to have both of those objects with ye, we can settle everythin' immediately", he added with a smile, and bent down to pick up his pistol.

"Aqua de Vida", repeated Jack doubtfully, but Barbossa sharply cut him off: "Oh, don't even try. I know ye have it. The third drink. Nobody drank it. I know, I was there", he narrowed his eyes in a sour smile.

Will looked between Jack, and Barbossa, his own mind spinning, the fear for his father fighting with the fear for Elizabeth, and the baby...

Gibbs silently watched the scene, hoping to get out of the room, and the house at some point, even though he was not sure how could that help in anything. Perhaps he could get to the _Black Pearl_, and... And what? If the ship was guarded, and everybody was in the brig... Not to mention that the sea was not all that close.

"Or perhaps Aqua de Vida is on the _Black Pearl_?, asked Barbossa, looking at Jack searchingly.

"I'm afraid it isn't", replied Jack, returning Barbossa's gaze unblinkingly. Will glanced at Jack.

Barbossa gave him a small smile. "If ye say so", he said, shifting his eyes to Will. "An' the heart?"

"Buried", answered Will sternly, receiving a wary look from Jack.

Barbossa smiled. "A smart move, but I'm afraid ye'll have to do some diggin', then. A fortunate circumstance that ye have yer friends to help ye", said Barbossa sneeringly. "I will give ye one day", he added after a pause, looking in between them. "An' if ye fail to bring what I asked for", he sighed, and shook his head. "Well, then I guess I'd have to be _satisfied_ with what I already have", his lips twisted into a sneer as he gave Jack a long look.

"Why do you need both the heart, _and_ Aqua de Vida?", asked Will stopping Barbossa in his tracks.

"Are ye goin' t' negotiate with me?", asked Barbossa with a chuckle. "A bad idea", he added, turning serious, and looking at Will piercingly. "An' what I want, an' why I want it should be of no concern t' ye", he turned around, and headed for the door. "An' now I hope ye'll excuse me. I have to take care of my ship, an' my guests", he said on his way out of the room, but before he walked out, a fireshot caught him by surprise, and he wrinkled his forehead, looking at his hat that fell to the floor, ran through by a bullet. He sharply turned around, and looked at Jack with his eyes narrowed.

Jack slowly lowered his pistol, his dark eyes never leaving Barbossa's, who looked at him for a moment, and then picked up his hat with a snort, and walked out, half-annoyed, half-amused.

_As if there's anythin' ye can do 'bout it_, he thought smiling to himself sarcastically, and slamming the door shut behind him.

"I'm so sorry, Jack", Gibbs grimaced as soon as Barbossa had left. "I-"

"We have to get to the sea", said Jack, knitting his eyebrows, and scanning the room to see if there was anything they should take with them.

"An' then?", asked Gibbs worriedly.

Jack looked at him blankly, and Gibbs nodded mutely.

"You should've told him where is that portion of Aqua de Vida, maybe then he wouldn't have wanted the heart!", said Will all of a sudden, attracting general attention.

Jack darted his eyes to him. "What?", he asked sharply, narrowing his eyes, the anger returning to his gaze, and darkening his eyes. "Ye're goin' t'o be tellin' me what I am supposed to do?", he took a few steps toward Will, glaring at him.

Will closed his eyes, and sighed with frustration. "He'll have somebody give him the water, and then he'll stab the heart." He wants both immortality, and revenge", said Will quietly.

"Does he?", Jack widened his eyes at Will. "That's a shockin' surprise", he said glancing at Gibbs, who rubbed his forehead, looking very worried. "I do appreciate that ye told me that. I'd be at loss without yer help."

Gibbs opened his mouth to interrupt, sensing that the situation was getting rather dense.

"I don't think it's the time for irony", said Will angrily, mistaking the breaking of the fight that had been hanging in the air from the beginning, with Jack's predilection for sarcastic comments.

Gibbs winced, knowing that it was not the right thing to say.

But it was too late, and Will had to duck in order to avoid being sliced in a half by Jack's sword. "What are you doing?", he yelled.

"And whose fault it is?", asked Jack, taking a few steps toward Gibbs, who blinked in bewilderment. "Everything. All of it. It is all yer fault." He pulled Gibbs' sword out of its sheath, and threw it toward Will. The sword landed at his feet.

Gibbs sighed with relief.

Will glanced at the sword, and frowned. "Do you think it's the right moment for that?", he asked irritatedly, picking up the sword. "When Elizabeth is in danger?"

Jack snorted darkly, and attacked Will, who blocked the blow without even thinking about it, even though his hand had not hold a sword in months.

"Ye have no right to even pronounce her name", whispered Jack menacingly.

"I have no right?", Will grimaced, and cut through the air, missing Jack's arm for inches. "Right now we would've been happily married, and living peacefully if it was not for Beckett arresting us, because of _you_", shouted Will, his sword clashing against Jack's. "And then everything that happened later, it was all _your _fault!"

"Oh, that again", commented Jack with a grimace... and another strike.

"I do think we should be heading to the _Black Pearl_", observed Gibbs loudly, trying to make his voice audible in the noise of clinging metal.

"How many times are ye goin' to repeat the same arguments over an' over again", snapped Jack, almost managing to knock Will's sword out of his hand, but breaking a glass-framed picture on the wall instead.

"How many times?", Will wrinkled his forehead. "An' how many times it crossed your mind that Elizabeth's father was killed because of you?" There was a moment of deconcentration on Jack's side caused by that remark, which Will used to his advantage, and swaying his sword at Jack, cut him shallowly on the left arm. Jack hissed under his breath, and struck back. Will stepped to the side, wondering briefly for how many months he had not had a sword in his hand. In fact, he had not practiced in months. He had almost forgotten that he had ever practiced. Three hours a day... Ages ago... "Beckett wouldn't have killed him, if he wouldn't have been Elizabeth's father", shouted Will angrily through his gritted teeth. "And he wouldn't have cared for her father to be dead, if he hadn't known that you were interested in her-", Will suddenly stopped, forgetting to even block Jack's next blow, and receiving a cut across his chest, a thin strip of blood appearing on his shirt.

Jack stopped in mid-action, and looked at Will questioningly. Will stood for a moment, just staring into the distance.

"The reward", said Will quietly, shifting his eyes to Jack, who looked at him with his brows furrowed. "You made a deal with Beckett", Will paused, studying Jack's face for a moment. "When he said _"claim your reward"_, he meant Elizabeth, right?" Jack tilted his head to the side, returning Will's gaze expressionlessly. "And I thought... that you wanted immortality."

"I did", broke in Jack in a cold voice. "An' didn't. But if ye recall I got exchanged", he smirked half-heartedly.

"Why did you agree?", asked Will in a low voice, and with sincere interest, subconsciously lowering his sword.

Jack's mouth twitched, but he did not smile. "I didn't."

Will rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean. You _eventually _agreed. You didn't... struggle."

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, and put away his sword. "Struggle", he shook his head, and smiled somberly. "An' what was I to do in yer opinion? Sweep her in me arms, an' carry her away?"

"She wouldn't have been upset for too long", observed Will bitterly, averting his eyes.

Jack shot him a curious look. "But it was not the opportune moment", he said in a low voice, after a moment of silence.

Will looked at him blankly. "She hated it here", he whispered almost inaudibly, his mind drifting away from their previous discussion.

"I know", said Jack in a low voice. "Clean yerself", he waved his hand with a grimace. "We have to be on our way", he added matter-of-factly.

"That's right", agreed Gibbs loudly, glad that the duel had ended so swiftly, and fairly bloodlessly.

Will seemed baffled, but then noticed the vertical stain of blood on his shirt. "I'm fine", he said tiredly. "Let's go."

"Ah, ah", Jack stopped him before he left the room.

Will shot him a questioning look.

"The chest, if ye please. We want to have it with us", Jack gave Will an artificial smile.

Will stared at him for a moment, but then nodded, and went toward the stairs, not even bothering to ask Jack how did he know that the chest was not buried.

However, a thought struck him, and he stopped in his tracks, and glanced at Jack over his shoulder. "And where's that bottle of Aqua de Vida?", he asked hesitantly.

Jack narrowed his eyes at him, and for a moment Will thought that he was not going to receive an answer. But after a moment of silence Jack said grimly: "On the _Black Pearl_", wondering what were the chances that Barbossa would not eventually find it on his own... which would make their situation even worse... if not thoroughly hopeless.

* * *

The moment she was pulled out of the carriage, and dragged towards the ship with black sails, and as soon as she had seen those beautiful, black sails billowing in the wind Elizabeth knew that it was the _Black Pearl_. 

Her husband's ship. Jack's ship. _Their _ship.

She did not struggle against two men that had been motioning her towards the gangplank. She had her attention fully occupied by holding Blaxton close to her chest, and glancing at the _Black Pearl _in amazement.

No house could possibly compare to this ship, and although she was terrified by the entire situation, she could not help feeling thrilled that she was going on board. She kissed Blaxton, who had only recently calmed down, on the forehead, and smiled at him reassuringly, trying to cover up her anxiety.

The men who were escorting her did not speak to her, and she did not ask them anything. She just glared at them whenever she got a chance, but kept herself from doing anything more in order not to put her baby in danger on account of some pointless demonstration of her bravery.

Wordlessly, the two scruffily looking men led her below deck, where they shoved her into one of the cabins, slamming, and locking the door behind her.

Blaxton grimaced at the noise, but Elizabeth shushed him whispering to him soothingly, and luckily he did not start crying.

She cautiously turned around, and looked around the cabin. It was rather spacial, and comfortably looking. There was a desk with maps, and papers piled upon it, a wardrobe, some bookshelves, and cabinets, a table... and a crib. She wrinkled her forehead in slight bafflement, but quickly assumed that everything that was happening must have been diligently planned by that repulsive man who had threatened her. She frowned, and turned away from the crib, and then she also spotted a door to her right.

After taking in the surroundings she decided that it must have been the Captain's Quarters, and she smiled to herself faintly wondering whether it was where she had been living with Jack.

It probably was, and the thought gave her some comfort. However, the ship had been apparently taken, and from the look of it, she, and Blaxton were taken hostage. What for, she could not imagine. Ransom, most likely. Nothing else seemed plausible to her.

She slowly walked around the cabin, gently rocking her little son in her arms, and hoping that he would fall asleep soon. She had protected him as best as she could for those two months. She had not even let anybody, but herself hold him. And whoever had wanted to see him, was told to smile brightly while looking at him. Mrs. Roggson had found it a bit funny, and several other neighbours had told her half-jokingly that she was exaggerating, but she did not care what they were thinking. She wanted him to be the happiest baby in the world, and she would do anything to make sure that he was safe and sound, and very happy. And now, when that outrageous man had scared him, and he had screamed, and cried, she would have strangled that man with her own hands, if they were not occupied with holding Blaxton.

She shuddered at the very memory of the pistol being cocked, and placed so near her little son's head.

Elizabeth walked over to the desk, and cautiously sat down in a chair. _Jack's chair_, she told herself, and smiled sadly. He had just found her, and her life had finally started to make sense to her, and now it was all taken away from her _again_, and so suddenly too.

With a heavy sigh, she looked at the baby, and smiled noticing that Blaxton had fallen asleep. Very gently she stroked his tiny cheek, and kissed his hand curled intoa small fist. He looked so adorable when he was asleep. Actually, he looked equally adorable when he was awake. Elizabeth chuckled to herself.

Just like his father...

She chewed on her lower lip, staring into the distance, and reliving her and Jack's meeting in her mind; recalling all his words, the way he had looked at her, the way he had touched her face, the way he had embraced her, and kissed her...

The way he had kissed her...

Her eyes fluttered shut, and she could not help trying to feel the taste of his lips, and she could almost, _almost _feel it. It was still there, on her lips... And she could still feel his hands on her skin...

She only hoped that he had enough money to pay that ransom... She missed him. She had missed him for ten months not knowing that it was him whom she had missed, and it was bad enough. But now, knowing him, having seen him, having _felt _him it was even worse... Now she knew exactly what she missed... She missed his hellishly alluring, dark eyes, his heavenly sweet lips setting hers on fire, his hair tickling her neck when he kissed her face; she missed his hands pulling her into blissful safety, and his arms closing her in paradise of his embrace, making her feel that she belonged there, and only there, as if there was no world outside of his arms, away from his touch... He had made her feel alive, he had brought her life, and light, and warmth that she had been deprived of for almost a year.

He had brought the world to her, because he was the world, he was the ocean, and the sky, and the sun, and the moon...

She felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she could not keep herself from thinking about him, from wishing that he would come, and rescue her.

She opened her eyes, and let the tears roll down her cheeks.

_I love him_, she thought with a faint smile, the thought strangely elating, and painful at the same time. She really did feel that she loved him, and it felt wonderful to finally know whom she loved, to finally love a real man, who had a face, and a name, and not a ghost, an amorphous figment of her imagination.

"Jack", she whispered, to just hear his name, to remind herself that it was real, that he was somewhere near, and that he would surely come for her soon-

"It's Hector, actually."

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open, and she straightened up in a chair abruptly. "Who are you?", she asked glaring daggers at Barbossa, who smiled, and slowly closed the door behind him.

"Captain Hector Barbossa", he said out loud with a smile, approaching the desk, and extending his hand to her.

Elizabeth glanced at his hand, and then shifted her eyes back to his face. "And where is _your_ ship, Captain?", she asked unsmilingly, with a hint of irony in her voice.

Barbossa narrowed his eyes in a forced smile. "It's a shame ye don't remember anythin'", he continued after a pause, withdrawing his hand, and taking a few steps away from the desk.

"You may save yourself trouble coming up with any _stories_, for I am not going to believe in anything you are going to say", said Elizabeth quickly through her gritted teeth, pronouncing each word very distinctly.

Barbossa's lips twisted into a smile. "Oh, I know that ye hardly believe in ghost stories."

He turned away from her, and walked over to the table. Elizabeth watched in silence as for a moment his hand hovered over a bowl of green apples.

"Not that ye remember _any_ stories, do ye?", he asked not looking at her, finally picking one of the apples, turning it in his hand, and waiting for her to say something. But she did not say anything, and he smiled to himself. "It must bother ye greatly, I reckon", he said in an almost concerned tone of voice, turning to face her. "That bracelet", he added in a low voice, finally seeing a change in her face at his words.

The bracelet... Elizabeth blinked. So Jack was right... when he had noticed this bracelet he had suggested that it could have had something to do with her memory loss...

"Wouldn't ye like to take it off?", Barbossa's voice broke into her thoughts, and she darted her eyes to him, and looked at him coldly. "An' remember, again?", he squinted, and smiled, and took a bite of his apple chewing it slowly.

"And you, of all people, know how to take it off?", asked Elizabeth as indifferently as she could, choosing her words carefully. She felt a ray of hope flashing through her, and almost blinding her for a moment, but she knew very well that it was not going to be easy, that there was something behind that _kind _suggestion, even if it was true, even if that man really knew how to get rid of that vicious bracelet.

Barbossa only smiled enigmatically in response, taking another bite of the green fruit in his hand.

Elizabeth was on the verge of asking him more questions, but held back thinking that it would have revealed her interest in the subject too much.

_Clever wench_, thought Barbossa appreciatively, making no effort to break the silence. Looking at her was quite enjoyable an activity in itself, and although saying that he had missed her would be a ridiculous exaggeration, he had to admit that he had been looking forward to this meeting.

He had started planning everything as soon as he had regained consciousness, and had found himself locked in the brig which he had immediately recognized as the _Black Pearl_'s. He was surprised that he had been still alive, but he really had _felt _that he was alive, because of the searing, and throbbing pain in three places on his body where the bullets from Jack's pistol were stuck. His arm, and leg had been bleeding, but not too much, and he soon had found that the bullets had gone in shallowly enough to be taken out with a knife... if he had only had a knife.

There was also a bullet in his chest, and that one had hurt more than it had bled. He had cursed under his breath, and tried to stand. He was going to limp, no doubt about that, bloody idiot, must have almost crushed his knee.

When he had staggered to his feet, he had leaned against the bars, and it was then that he had discovered that... the cell was not locked. And that fortunate discovery had even lessened the pain he had felt, turning it into a nagging anticipation – of revenge.

"Am I t' understand that ye don't want yer precious memories back, Elizabeth?", he asked with a knowing smile, thinking briefly that her name rolling down his tongue tasted _almost _as good as green apples.

"It's Mrs. Sparrow", retorted Elizabeth sharply, glancing at Blaxton to make sure that he had not woken up. For his sake she was trying to keep her voice low.

_Oh, I shall remember to address ye as such in bed. _Barbossa grinned, and for some reason his grin sent cold shivers up Elizabeth's spine.

"So... do ye?", he repeated, squinting.

"I still cannot see the relation between my memory, and you", said Elizabeth, narrowing her eyes.

"The relation is very simple", said Barbossa with a smile. "Yer memory loss was Mr. Turner's wish. Magically granted."

Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead, looking at Barbossa searchingly. "Magically granted", she echoed sceptically.

"Aye", Barbossa nodded, looking her in the eyes with all seriousness. "The only trouble is, ye see, that it wasn't _his_ wish", Barbossa paused, and studied her face for a moment, wondering how would it feel like to have her kiss him not like before when he had kissed her against her will, but rather with her consent; how would it feel if _she _kissed him like she kissed Jack.

"I don't understand", said Elizabeth coolly, the understanding that she had not lost her memory in an accident, but by Will's conscious decision slowly sinking in, and astonishing her to the point at which it hurt, physically. How could he have done something like that? If it was true... as unbelievable as it sounded. How could he?

"He had a certain chart, and he exchanged that chart for a wish", said Barbossa slowly, putting away the half-eaten apple. "But that chart...", he walked towards Elizabeth, looking at her intensely, "was mine, not his. He stole my chart, an' my right to a wish, an' therefore I can break his wish." He stopped next to the chair in which Elizabeth was sitting.

Elizabeth pushed herself up from the chair, and quickly walked away from Barbossa.

"And why would you do that?", asked Elizabeth sharply. "Why would you take this bracelet off? Why would you give me my memory back? Out of kindness?"

"I think our discussion would be much more interesting if ye remembered the past", said Barbossa, slowly walking toward her.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him. "Just that?"

"_Just _that?" Barbossa smiled. "It's more than _just _that."

"Alright", said Elizabeth, giving Barbossa a sour half-smile, and then looking at Blaxton who was still fast asleep. She walked to the crib, kissed her little son on the forehead, and put him gently down in the crib. "Alright", she repeated, swirling around, and coming face to face with Barbossa who stood right in front of her. She took a step backwards, and extended her hand to him. "Take it off", she said nonchalantly with a shrug.

Barbossa tilted his head to the side, and looked at her, clearly amused. "Not so fast", he said with a lazy smile, reaching for her hand, but she hastily drew it back. "I have one condition."

Elizabeth snorted, shooting him a condescending look.

"But it's a very simple condition", he added with mock defensiveness, smiling sweetishly. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "An' not even a condition", he corrected himself with a slight grimace. "A mere request. A mere...", he smiled, "kiss."

"Beg pardon?", Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in a grimace.

"Yer entire past", continued Barbossa in a low voice. "Yer childhood, yer parents...", Barbossa paused, and smiled, seeing a glimpse of emotion, of some kind of sadness in her eyes. "Do ye remember how yer mother looked like?", he whispered, taking a small step towards her. "Do ye remember the sound of yer father's voice?" Elizabeth averted her eyes for a moment, trying to imagine... But she could not, she could not see or hear anything... there was just that _feeling _connected with those words, but nothing else... "But ye may have it all back", Barbossa's voice shook her out of her brief reverie. "Everything. All yer forgotten days... an' nights", he smiled. Elizabeth darted her eyes to him, and looked at him intently. "An' all of that for just one kiss. I dare say it's a fair exchange", he said under his breath, studying her face, and trying to read her thoughts, but her face was unreadable, her eyes glimmering with... anger, indignation, hesitation? He outstretched his hand, and smiled. "Do we have an accord, then, Mrs. Sparrow?"


	81. Chapter 81

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**_

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 81**

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and looked at Barbossa searchingly, trying to estimate what were the chances that he was actually telling the truth, that he really could free her from that bracelet...

Not that it mattered... too much... or at all... The idea of kissing him appeared to her as ridiculous as repulsive, and most of all suspicious.

"Why can't we do it the other way around?" Asked Elizabeth after a pause.

Barbossa squinted, slowly withdrawing his hand, somewhat disappointed, yet not too surprised. "Meaning?" He forced a smile.

"You will take this bracelet off first, and _then _I will kiss you," answered Elizabeth smoothly, miraculously managing not to choke on the word 'kiss' in that context.

Barbossa's artificial smile turned into a genuine one. "An undoubtedly interestin' proposal. Although I seem t' be missin' the difference..."

"Oh, the difference is most significant," replied Elizabeth coolly. "My order of events will prevent you from unfair _enhancement _of your _mere_ request, should you impolitely choose to enhance it."

Barbossa grinned. "This is a _very_ unfair accusation, I assure ye. However...", he paused, and looked around the room, as if considering her words.

He had no doubt that once she would have her memory back, she would never fulfill her part of the deal, that is if she was even taking into consideration fulfilling it right now... He suspected that she was just trying to buy some time, as naive as it was in the current circumstances, since the offer that he had made her was a rather spontaneous idea that would not change his original plan in the slightest, and his original plan had obviously little to do with her making _any_ choices.

He did want her to regain her memory if only for the sheer pleasure of seeing the dismay in her eyes at the realization what was the true nature of the predicament she was in. Right now she was most likely thinking of him as some random attacker with unknown motives, and it did not satisfied him sufficiently. He wanted her to remember what had happened before, he wanted her to remember that forced, delectable kiss, he wanted her to be indignant, and afraid, he wanted to see her eyes sparkling with anger, and anxiety when he would make her do everything that he wanted her to do with the simple threat of throwing that little bastard overboard.

He still could make her kiss him _willingly_,even when she would have her memory back. He felt almost sorry for her, as she apparently still believed that she had a choice to make.

He smiled complacently. "Agreed."

Elizabeth's facial expression did not change, but he could see a small glimpse of mischievous triumph in her eyes, and it amused him greatly.

"May I?", he asked extending his open palm toward her with a smile.

Unsmilingly, and still somewhat uncertainly Elizabeth put her hand in his, her mind racing as she tried to sort out her thoughts which were simultaneously preoccupied with the thrilling idea of having all her memories back, and with trepidation as to what she would do once she had her memory back... She had no intention of fulfilling her part of the agreement. She did not want to kiss him, and she could not kiss him, there was no reason for doing that, and she doubted whether her husband (_my husband_, the word still felt so sweet even when she was only thinking it...) would approve of that, or even understand... And actually she would not understand that either... That man was repugnant, and hideous, and... dangerous.

Which made her wonder how would he react if she refused to kiss him...

But she did want to have her memories back, and she did not want to think about the consequences just yet.

Deep in her thoughts, she did not notice when Barbossa encircled her wrist with one of his hands. But suddenly she noticed, and cringed involuntarily at the contact.

_Ye'll get used to it_, he thought sardonically. "Now, I've to cut it with this," he said producing a small, golden knife from his pocket.

Elizabeth frowned, looking between him, and the knife.

"I'm not goin' to cut yer skin, just the bracelet," he said with a wry smile, studying her face intensely for a moment.

"I know," muttered Elizabeth, wrinkling her forehead in sudden hesitation. Why did she want to have her memory back so much? Wouldn't Jack tell her everything? Of course being told did not equal remembering, but getting herself in trouble only because she was _curious_, and wanted to remember everything by herself was hardly a reasonable thing to do.

On an impulse, she wanted to snatch her hand away, but Barbossa's grip was too strong.

"Too late," he smiled drily, slid the knife underneath the bracelet, and cut it in one, swift, sharp movement.

Elizabeth gasped, not at the feeling, because she did not feel anything when the bracelet broke, but rather at the realization that it broke... Two pieces of the bracelet fell to the floor soundlessly. Or at least soundlessly for her, because suddenly the world around her became mute, and colorless, and soon it dissipated, leaving her in silence, and in darkness, and it crossed her mind that she was going to faint, even though she felt conscious, surprisingly conscious, but also very dizzy. She put her head in her hands trying to keep her balance, and then the darkness, and silence burst into millions of sounds, and colors, and the noise and vividness in her mind almost made her scream, and perhaps she did scream, she was not sure. She was not sure whether anything from what she saw was real, or whether she only saw all those resounding images in her imagination.

She saw places, and people, towns, and seas, she felt the wind tugging on her hair, the rain soaking her to the skin, the sun burning her face, and there were also words swirling around her, voices calling her, music playing somewhere in the background... somewhere... everywhere... there was no difference between nothing, and everything, between nowhere, and everywhere... She was soaring above, and within a huge, amorphous cloud of pale colors surrounding her, clinging to her like the mist, cool, and hot at the same time, and she was freezing cold, and burning simultaneously, trying to catch all those images that were running through her head, under her closed eyelids, everywhere... nowhere...

"_Which story would you like to hear tonight, sweetheart?"_

It was raining, and she felt cold, and yet there was a warm glow of fireplace, the crackling of the wood easing her mind...

...but then the warmth was gone, the coldness prevailed...

"_Mother!"_

...and it was raining again.

"_Port Royal is a beautiful town, you will see."_

The streets, the buildings, the voices... and nobody to talk to. Crowded streets, empty streets, and she felt as if she had nowhere to go. But the sun shone, the sun was shining, and it was not raining so hard anymore...

"_Sticks and stones."_

...and there was an explosion of light, and the quiescence went to pieces, the image of the world shattered, and yet the world became breathtakingly beautiful.

"_It would have never worked out between us."_

The sun shone, and yet it felt as if it was raining...

And it continued... empty chairs around her... the rain, and...

"_I happen to have no dress in my cabin."_

... the fire again. The light. Glowing, transcendent, burning hot, terrifying, and enticing...

"_One word, luv."_

...but then the light went off...

"_Pirate."_

...and it was cold in her heart...

"_I'm so proud of you, Elizabeth."_

...so cold, that she was not sure she had a heart anymore...

"_Once is quite enough."_

...so cold, and yet there was hope, and quiescence... nothing to be afraid of... and yet she was scared... she was scared that she would not have anything to be afraid of anymore...

"_There is no before."_

The sun, she could see it again above, within, everywhere, out of reach, within her, hopeless, impossible...

...dragging her in.

"_You are this sea... You are this night, and this wind, and the stars... And the tomorrow's sunrise, 'Lizbeth."_

She was everywhere, she was everything, the light was inside her, and it was warm, so warm, so soothing, and yet she was drenched, she was soaked the skin, and cold, so cold, and so hot, burning from the inside out, elated, and complete, and the rain was swirling around, coming down from the darkish sky in torrents, her heart sinking, soaring, she could not tell, she could not decide, and that feeling inside her, that feeling surrounding her, and she knew everything, she understood everything, she was everything, she was...

"_I don't want to sleep. I want to look at me wife."_

Elizabeth opened her eyes, gasping for air.

The world came back.

Everything came back.

She smiled, still dazed from all the feelings evoked by the hurricane of memories, and lifted her eyes... suddenly meeting Barbossa's intent gaze; her smile freezing on her lips.

* * *

"Do we have a plan?" Asked Will hesitantly after an hour of walking in heavy, undisturbed silence.

Gibbs glanced at him, wincing slightly, anticipating the glare that Jack sent into Will's direction.

"Ye can just hand the chest to Mister Gibbs, and be back on yer merry, nightmarish way to yer little nightmarish town," said Jack through his gritted teeth, quickening his steps.

"So do you plan to give him the chest, and Aqua de Vida, or not?" Asked Will impatiently, not quite believing that Jack had no plan, and rather suspecting that he had one, only he was not going to tell him what it was.

"Mister Gibbs," called Jack, and Gibbs made a few quick steps forward to catch up with him.

"Aye?"

"Please inform Mister Turner that if he believes that his purpose for bein' here is anythin' more than carryin' the chest, then he's gravely mistaken, an' if he continues voicin' his opinions as well as askin' questions that are of no interest to anybody at least for as long as they're comin' from him, then he might find himself lethally wounded, an' deprived of the capability of askin' any questions, an' voicin' any opinions in the future."

Gibbs blinked several times, before nodding. "May I deliver 'im a shorter version of this message?" He asked tentatively.

Jack muttered 'aye' in response, and Gibbs stopped, waiting for a moment for Will, who was falling a little behind, carrying the chest, and wondering why on earth he had not just taken the heart, instead of dragging the heavy trunk all the way to the sea with them.

"What did he say?" Asked Will, glancing at Gibbs, who started to walk beside him.

"He suggested ye better stop talkin'," answered Gibbs in a half-heartedly humorous tone of voice.

"It's all my fault," mumbled Will after a pause, his eyes fixed on the chest that he was carrying.

"I won't tell ye that it isn't, but..." Gibbs shook his head resignedly. "Barbossa was bound to reappear sooner or later."

"I can't see how he could've survived," observed Will grimly.

"Aye. He has some standin' in hell, that's for sure," replied Gibbs, wrinkling his forehead.

"She's defenseless," whispered Will hollowly, and Gibbs shot him a questioning look. "He'll use the baby to control her. She'll do anything to protect it, she loves this baby more than you can imagine."

Gibbs sighed sadly. "Aye, it's usually the case with mothers," he said, trying to smile, but not really succeeding in doing so. "But she's a smart girl," he added in a less reassuring tone of voice that he had intended.

"Who am I, Gibbs," asked Will all of a sudden in a blank voice. Gibbs looked at him pensively. "What have I done. Why have I done it."

"It's too late for that set of questions, lad. Ye can't turn back time," said Gibbs, quickening his steps in order not to fall too far behind Jack who was well ahead of them already, gradually disappearing from view.

"I will never forgive myself if-"

"That won't help either," cut in Gibbs in a low, but firm tone of voice.

Will grimaced, and sighed. "I know," he whispered almost inaudibly. "I know."

* * *

"Welcome back," said Barbossa, narrowing his eyes in a smile.

Elizabeth stared at him, slowly regaining her composure, her mind gradually calming down, even thought she still felt lightheaded from that strange experience of having all her memories hurtling toward her, encompassing her, literally taking her breath away.

She could not believe that it was really over, that she remembered everything again. All the beautiful moments, and all the darkest days of her life. Hurt and happiness, death and life. Love.

"I do hope that now that you remember everythin', ye also remember 'bout our agreement," said Barbossa smilingly, looking at her with great interest, greedily awaiting her reaction.

Elizabeth gripped the side of the crib, steadying herself, still feeling a little giddy. She looked at Blaxton who slept peacefully, his little hands curled up in tiny fists on either side of her dark-haired head.

"How did you escape?" Asked Elizabeth incredulously, her senses slowly falling under her control again.

"I'll most gladly answer all of yer questions, but first I think ye should fulfill yer part of our agreement," he said with a sneer flickering across his face.

Elizabeth shot him a stern look. "You don't think I will really do it, do you?" She forced a small ironic smile, even though she felt much less calm than she tried to appear.

Barbossa snorted. "No, indeed, I don't", he said, squinting, and then all of a sudden he grabbed her shoulders, and pulled her towards him, slanting his mouth across hers. She writhed furiously, hitting him blindly everywhere she could reach, but he only gripped her shoulders harder in response, and she moaned from pain, almost hearing her bones cracking under the grip of his hands.

After a moment he pulled away, tossing her to the side, and she stumbled backwards a few steps, almost tripping over her own feet. She glared at him, the anger burning in her eyes, the anger, and something else that she tried to cover up, but he saw it nonetheless: fear.

"I consider our agreement concluded to the mutual satisfaction," he narrowed his eyes, and smiled.

"Captain!"

Barbossa looked toward the door at the sound of somebody's voice calling from the outside. "What is it?" He bellowed with slight impatience.

"Ye're needed on deck," the voice replied.

Barbossa snarled, and called that he would be right there.

"I'm afraid I have to leave ye now," he said turning toward Elizabeth, who stood motionlessly staring at him with so much hatred that he even found it quite fascinating that somebody could actually put so much emotion in a look. "But I'll back," he grinned, taking a few steps toward her.

She sharply straightened up, and wanted to move away from him, but he caught her by the wrists, slamming her against the wall.

"I hope that ye do understand that I may do everythin' that I want without botherin' to ask for yer permission," he whispered menacingly, inching his face to hers.

Elizabeth flinched, and kicked his ankle, causing him to grimace slightly. "No, I see ye don't understand," he sneered, and pulled her away from the wall, tossing her toward the crib. She did not even had enough time to straighten up when he went to stand behind her, grabbed her by the hair, and brought her face nearer to the crib. "Let me show ye, then," he said in a low, husky voice pulling out his pistol, and pointing it at the sleeping baby.

"No!" Elizabeth screamed, tears bursting out of her eyes at an instant. Blaxton's eyes flew open at the noise.

"See, _Elizabeth_, this is what will happen if ye won't be _nice_, is it clear, or should I demonstrate it better?" He cocked the pistol.

"Stop it!" She shouted. The baby grimaced, and started to cry.

Barbossa pulled Elizabeth away from the crib, and backed her against the wall. "This is goin' t' be a long evenin', an' I do not wish to endure yer weepin' an' whinin' throughout the night, missy, so if ye want that brat to still breathe tomorrow I advise ye'll change yer attitude, mood, facial expression, an' behaviour. An' now, if I could have a nice kiss 'fore I go," he narrowed his eyes in a sour smile.

Elizabeth brought her head closer to his, and whispered through her gritted teeth: "Go to hell."

Barbossa winced, and shook his head with a snort, and then turned around, and before Elizabeth had the time to scream fired.

The bullet hit one of the crib's legs, and several pieces of splintered wood fell to the floor.

Elizabeth snatched herself away from him, and ran to the crib, taking crying Blaxton into her arms.

"You'll pay for this" She said angrily, shooting Barbossa a glare over her shoulder, and trying to calm down her little son, rocking him gently, and pressing her cheek to his forehead.

"No, I won't," said Barbossa with a chuckle. "I'll have ye for free," he whispered with a sneer, putting his pistol away. Elizabeth ignored him, lulling Blaxton, and whispering to him. Barbossa walked up to her, and turn her around, aggressively propping her chin with his hand. Elizabeth pressed the baby closer to her chest. "An' I'll have ye with a smile on yer face, or else next time it won't be the crib's leg that I'll hit," said Barbossa in a low voice, gazing into her eyes intensely.

He let go of her chin, and walked out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Elizabeth burst into tears which she had tried to hold back while he was still in the cabin. She continued whispering some reassuring words to Blaxton, but could not quite speak, choking on every syllable. To her surprise, and despite her sobs, the baby stopped crying, and just looked at her with wide, brown eyes.

Elizabeth stumbled over a piece of wood that splintered from the crib, and walked unsteadily to the bedroom, where she sat on the edge of the bed, trying to calm down. Blaxton tried to reach her face with his tiny hands, and even managed to do that, accidentally wiping some tears away from her cheeks. Elizabeth smiled through her tears at that, and took the little boy's hand in hers, and kissed each of his tiny fingers.

"Everything will be alright," she whispered leaning down towards him, and trying not to grimace, when she realized just how much she did _not_ believe in what she had just said.

She frowned, her gaze became distant, and she stared absently at her baby, drifting away in her thoughts. Why was she scared? She should not be scared. She was the bloody Pirate King!...

Blaxton wiggled his fingers in the air, and caught a strand of Elizabeth's hair, his mood immediately improving as he could at last occupy himself with one of his favorite pastimes, which happened to be pulling Elizabeth's hair, and awkwardly twirling her locks around his tiny fingers. He squealed happily, and the sound snapped Elizabeth back into the reality.

She looked at Blaxton, and smiled faintly, still half-submerged in her thoughts.

"Mommy is the bloody Pirate King," she muttered, wrinkling her forehead. She should come up with something, she should not just sit, and wait for Jack (who might as well be right now locked up in the brig already).

She had a feeling that he was not, but a feeling was not something to depend on.

She sighed. Jack would have come up with a plan if he was here. Why could not she come across some brilliant idea? Maybe she did not have that much pirate experience, after all. Truth to be told, usually it was him who had always been rescuing her, and not the other way around, so how was she supposed to know how to construct a successful rescue plan?

_Wasting the time for useless thinking won't help either_, thought Elizabeth irritatedly, smiling faintly at her son who did not pay attention to anything else but her hair at the moment, apparently trying to tie several strands of her hair together, but not really knowing how to do that.

Elizabeth gently stroked his cheek with her fingertips, and smiled when the baby giggled. She inhaled deeply, her mind racing, as she feverishly tried to think of a way out of this situation.

And suddenly she froze.

She did not dare to move feeling something on her ankle, something... she did not know what it was, what it could possibly be, but she was afraid to move nonetheless.

Cautiously, she leaned forward, and looked down...

A pair of small, dark eyes blinked at her.

"We pillage, we plunder," the parrot flapped its wings. "We rrrifle and loot!"

Blaxton stopped playing with Elizabeth's hair, and began looking around, apparently trying to identify the source of the scratchy voice.

Elizabeth stared at the parrot, for a moment wondering what Cotton's parrot was doing in the Captain's Quarters, but then suddenly she realized that this parrot looked different than Cotton's parrot...

"Drrrink up!" The parrot screeched, and flew up from the floor straight onto... Elizabeth's shoulder.

Blaxton clapped his hands, and squealed cheerfully at the sight, outstretching his hands as much as he could, and trying to reach the colorful bird.

Elizabeth slowly turned her head, raised her eyebrows, and looked at the parrot questioningly. The bird tilted its head to the side, and looked between Elizabeth, and the baby.

"Drrrink up me hearties, yo ho!"

Blaxton giggled, and Elizabeth smiled faintly, but then, all of a sudden, her eyes widened, as the realization dawned on her.

"A parrot," whispered Elizabeth. "A colorful, talking, _singing_ parrot." She bit her lower lip, and did not know whether she felt more like laughing or crying.

"We kidnap and rrravage, and don't give a hoot!"

Blaxton giggled again, and the parrot looked at him, and flapped its wings. Elizabeth kissed Blaxton on the cheek, and smiled at the parrot.

_Oh, Jack. _

Despite her efforts to keep her composure Elizabeth felt tears welling up in her eyes. He remembered that she had wanted a singing parrot, and she had only said it once, only once on that morning after their first night together...

"We extort, we pilfer, we filch and sack!" The parrot announced triumphantly, and flew off Elizabeth's shoulder, and onto one of the cabinets.

Blaxton blinked, visibly disappointed by the disappearance of the parrot. Elizabeth took one of his hands in hers to attract his attention. The baby darted its eyes to her, and smiled.

"Daddy taught the parrot mommy and daddy's song," she said kissing the baby's tiny hand. "I'm sure it will sing some more later."

"Marrraud and embezzle...," the parrot screeched in an almost thoughtful voice, hitting the wall with its beak.

Elizabeth smiled, amused, but soon she remembered the situation she was in. Because of the baby, and the parrot she had forgotten for a little while what was happening... She took a deep breath, and knitted her eyebrows. She still did not know what she was going to do. Barbossa could come back at any moment, and she did not come up with any sensible solution. Perhaps she could try to find out whether Jack had been captured, or not, and then act accordingly...

Accordingly. She sighed. It did not make much difference, actually, because even if he was free, and on his way to save her, she could not know when he would manage to get to her. When, and if, because the ship was guarded, and there was no way he could take over the ship on his own.

"...and even high-jack."

She smiled faintly. Of course he was Captain Jack Sparrow, so there was a remote possibility that he would do that, but...

"Drrrink up me hearrr, hearrr, hearrrties, yo ho!"

A quiet, cracking sound caused Elizabeth to look up.

"Yo ho, yo ho," the parrot pecked the wall with its beak a few more times, and... "a pirate's life..."

A piece of wood fell off the wall, and onto the cabinet's surface. Elizabeth blinked, and even Blaxton seemed to lift his head a little to see what was happening.

"...for me!"

Elizabeth slowly rose to her feet, and with Blaxton in her arms walked toward the cabinet, and the strange hole that appeared where the piece of wood had fallen off the wall.

The parrot seemed also very interested in what was inside the little hiding place. It tilted its head forward, and peered inside.

Elizabeth approached the cabinet, and gently picked up the parrot so it would not block the view. The bird easily agreed, and flew back onto her shoulder causing Blaxton to wave his hands gleefully.

"We're devils and black sheep," screeched the parrot. The baby giggled.

Elizabeth extended her hand, and reached inside the hole taking a small object out of it.

"Rrreally bad legs!" The parrot clapped its wings twice, and flew away.

Elizabeth stared at the little bottle in her hand with a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Really bad legs," she echoed absently, looking at the transparent liquid inside the bottle.

With the parrot being out of his range of vision, Blaxton started to play with Elizabeth's hair again, while she kept her eyes fixed on Aqua de Vida.

After a moment of consideration she squeezed the bottle in her hand, a trace of a sly smile flickering across her lips.

"Really bad legs," she hummed, placed the piece of wood that had fallen off the wall back into its place, and walked away from the cabinet.

She sat on the edge of the bed, looked at Blaxton, and smiled. "I think you'll have to help mommy with her little plan, my little pirate sweetheart," she whispered. "And hope that it will work," she added frowningly with a sigh.


	82. Chapter 82

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Spoiler/Warning: Character(s'?) death(s?).

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 82**

Elizabeth was certain that her plan was brilliant...

for several minutes. But the longer she thought about it, the less certain she was becoming.

She kissed Blaxton on the forehead, put him down in the crib, and quickly went to Jack's desk. Having opened the drawer, and perused through definitely not well organized piles of papers, and different objects. She even found several trinkets there, some coins, a piece of lace (she smiled remembering how Jack had bandaged her injured arm with that lace, after she had been hit by the mast, and regained her memory of the past, but had temporarily forgotten her time with Jack after that accident in Tortuga...). She sighed, and continued searching, even though she was not entirely sure what she was looking for... The bottle of Aqua de Vida sat on the desk, and Elizabeth was glancing at it from time to time, as if to make sure that it was still there. It was her only hope, the only idea that she had come up with, and yet it was sheer madness to believe that her plan would work. There were so many elements of her plan that might _not _work that for a moment she wondered, whether she should not give up the idea altogether... But she could not think of anything better that she could possibly do. _"Daft like Jack"_, she thought with a faint smile.

The parrot flew from the bedroom to the main cabin, and softly landed on the desk next to the bottle with transparent liquid. Elizabeth glanced at the parrot, and the bird fluttered its wings as if in response. She smiled, and looked back into the drawer, suddenly coming across something that seemed useful: a small knife for opening the letters. She pulled out the knife, and a piece of dark paper from the drawer. She placed the paper on the desk, and cautiously cut out a small, rectangular piece of paper on which she wrote several words with a quill.

She tilted her head to the side, regarding her work so far.

"This is stupid," she muttered with frown.

"Stupid feather-holder," screeched the parrot.

Elizabeth looked up, amused. "He doesn't call you that, does he?"

The parrot tactfully chose not to answer that question.

Elizabeth put down the quill and hugged herself. It had been ten months, almost a year, almost an entire year without him, and suddenly the full realization that she had spent so many days without him, and not even knowing that he existed, unable to even miss him properly, as she had missed just some vague supposition instead, she felt like crying from the sheer regret, bitter, and hurtful, the regret that she had been alone for so many months. Every day, and every night she had had to live in that world in which it was impossible to live, because it was empty, and cold, and lonely...

She grimaced, and bit her lower lip thinking how wonderful it could have been, that year, if that nightmare had never happened. She tried to imagine how could she have told Jack that she was pregnant. There were so many funny ways in which she could have done that, and she tried to imagine his face when the realization would have dawned on him... Would he have smiled? Or just stared at her for several minutes? She grinned, feeling hot tears welling up in her eyes. Yes, he would have probably stared at her for a while with that adorably confused expression on his face.

She stopped grinning, and with a numb, sad feeling in her chest tried to imagine how he would have been behaving during the pregnancy, how would he have been taking care of her. Would he have insisted on her staying ashore, somewhere, so she would have been safe? Shipwreck Cove, probably? Or would he have wanted her to stay on the _Black Pearl_, to keep her close? For some reason she suspected that he would have been overprotective of her, in some unique, odd way, but overprotective nonetheless, and it would make her smile, if she could smile. But she couldn't. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she thought about all those stolen moments, stolen days, and nights, that they could have had, that they _should _havespent together.

She would have named their son Jack if she had known... if she had remembered.

"Yo ho, yo ho..."

Elizabeth cringed at the unexpected sound, the parrot's voice snapping her back into the reality. She gasped, glancing anxiously toward the door. It was really not the time for drifting away in her thoughts. She took the piece of brown paper, and looked between it, and Aqua de Vida nibbling nervously on her bottom lip. After a moment of hesitation she searched through the desk drawer some more, but soon stopped searching with a sigh. Barbossa could come back at any moment, and there was no time for trying to find another bottle that would look more like a bottle of medicine.

She shut the drawer, and glued the piece of brown paper onto the transparent glass bottle. The parrot followed her actions interestedly, tilting its head right, and left. Elizabeth glanced at the parrot giving it a small smile.

"We'll have to get you a name later," she said, pressing the paper to the bottle, and making sure that it would not come off. "Unless Jack named you already?" She looked at the bird questioningly.

"Bunch of feathers!" Screeched the parrot unenthusiastically.

Elizabeth giggled, and wiped away some forgotten tears that sprang from her eyes when she smiled. "No, that's not a good name," she said with a small smile rising to her feet when Blaxton began to cry.

Elizabeth put the small bottle into the pocket that she had in her dress, went over to the crib, and took the baby in her arms.

"I know, sweetheart, I know," she whispered with a grimace. "I know that you're hungry, but you have to wait a moment, that's a part of Mommy's plan," she sighed frustratedly. It was almost unbearable for her to look at her son crying, and deliberately not doing what she knew she could do to make him smile again.

She rocked him, and he calmed down a little, although he kept staring up at her expectedly, as if wondering what was wrong, and why she did not understand what he wanted.

Elizabeth bit her lip, and grimaced. When she was rocking him, it provided a small distraction, and she could keep him from crying for a moment. But when she would put him down in the crib, he would start crying again immediately, and she _did_ want him to start crying, only not immediately...

Elizabeth gasped, and shook her head. It was not going to work. She gently lie Blaxton down in the crib experimentally, and as soon as she drew back, he started crying indeed. Elizabeth put her head in her hands. It was not going to work, it was simply not going to work, it was not-

She blinked, and looked up abruptly to see why Blaxton had stopped crying. And not only was he not crying, but he was actually smiling. Elizabeth slowly shifted her eyes from her son's face to the parrot who was sitting on the corner of the crib, and flapping its wings, successfully having attracted, and holding little boy's attention.

Elizabeth propped her chin with her hand, and looked at the scene frowningly.

Now, if she only knew how to ask a bird to entertain a child for several minutes, and then fly away...

"A pirate's life for me!" The parrot exclaimed in a scratchy voice.

Elizabeth smiled at her son who was waving his little hands at the parrot, and giggling delightedly.

"We burn up the city, we're rrreally a fright!"

It was a smart parrot, no doubt, if it actually learned the entire song, not to mention that it had actually led her to Aqua de Vida. Yet... it was only a bird. However, it seemed that the parrot liked flying around, and therefore would not sit by Blaxton, but at some point it would fly away leaving him alone, so he would remember that he was hungry, and then he would start crying again...

Trying not to think how ridiculous her behaviour was, Elizabeth lightly stroked the parrot's head with her fingertips, and quietly explained what she wished the parrot would do.

_No, not daft like Jack. Daft more than Jack, actually. Scheming with a parrot!..._

"Drrrink up!" The parrot fluttered its wings, and Elizabeth sighed.

If her plan would not work-

But she did not have the time for any further inner discussions, because she heard heavy, uneven footsteps in the corridor, and soon the door opened, and Barbossa walked into the cabin.

* * *

"Here she is," whispered Gibbs looking at the _Black Pearl _that floated just off shore, her black sails unfurled, and billowing in the unusually strong wind. 

"Are we sneaking aboard?" Asked Will in a low voice, putting the chest on the ground.

Jack stared at the _Black Pearl _through the bushes in which the three of them were hiding, his brows furrowed, his eyes studying the view intently.

"They're waitin' for us, no doubt," answered Gibbs with a sigh. "So unless we want to attempt to negotiate-"

"We won't be negotiatin' with that treacherous git," snapped Jack, taking out his pistol, checking it, and putting it back behind his belt.

"So what are you going to do?" Asked Will with a hint of irritation in his voice. "Just go on board, and-" He stopped as Jack's pistol suddenly appeared in front of his face.

Gibbs nervously rubbed his forehead.

"Perhaps ye may find it useful to remember that the main, if not _only_ reason why ye're still alive is that I've got more important things on me mind at the moment," said Jack through his gritted teeth..

Will narrowed his eyes, but did not say anything, and just held Jack's dark gaze.

Gibbs cleared his throat. "I don't see anybody on the main deck, but perhaps they just keep out of sight," he observed casually, looking at the _Black Pearl_.

"I can go alone first," said Will in a low voice. "I'll draw their attention to me, and then you can try to get below deck unnoticed." Jack put his pistol away, smiling derisively. "I said once that I'd die for her, and I never change my mind," added Will after a pause in a very quiet, but resolute tone of voice.

Jack snorted. "If anythin', yer _consistency_ proved to possess killin', not rescuin' abilities," he said irately, walking out of the bushes, and heading straight for the _Pearl_.

* * *

Elizabeth glanced at Blaxton, his brown, glimmering eyes fixed on the parrot which sat in the same spot as before, and Elizabeth was grateful that it had not flown away at the sound of Barbossa slamming the door shut behind him. She looked blankly at the parrot, suddenly terrified, suddenly seeing the dramatic fragility of her plan. Her heartbeat quickened, and she could hear the unsteady rhythm of her pounding heart in her ears. 

"Yo ho, yo ho," screeched the parrot, and Elizabeth wanted to smile, but couldn't.

"Ah, I see ye calmed down," she heard Barbossa's voice right behind her. Slowly, she turned around.

"_At dawn, we're at war,"_ the words flew to her as if out of nowhere, and for a moment she wished she was back at that point in time, she wished it was that night again, and that instead of spending a sleepless night tossing, and turning, and thinking, she would have gone to Jack to tell him that she was sorry. He had given her a pretext, he had voted her the Pirate King, and she could have gone to see him, and tell him, and... kiss him, or maybe he would have kissed her?... and then she would not have 'married' Will, she would not have made that final mistake which had cost her almost half a year of despair, of longing, of solitude, and now it had cost her another year... Because even though it had been Will's doing that had led to this, it was _her_ fault. She should have ended that earlier, she should have made the right choice when it was the right time to made it; she should have noticed the opportune moment, and somehow she felt that the opportune moment had been that night after she had been elected the Pirate King.

"Ye can still talk," said Barbossa with a chuckle, propping Elizabeth's chin with his hand. "I didn't forbid ye t' speak."

Elizabeth snapped back into the reality, and instinctively snatched her chin away from his grasp. Barbossa squinted, and grabbed her shoulders pulling her closer. "That wasn't nice, an' I thought that I explained quite clearly what will happen-"

"I'm sorry," cut in Elizabeth in a blank voice.

"_Pirate."_

Barbossa smiled appreciatively. "That's better."

"Why are you doing this?" Asked Elizabeth forcing herself not to cringe when he slowly slid his hand into her hair. "You could just start a new life, you've been given a new life, and instead of starting anew, you're wasting your time for revenge hunt." She stiffened when he leaned down, and she could feel his breath on her face when he looked her straight in the eyes.

"Oh, this is exactly what I intend to do, _Elizabeth_. I want t' start a new life, but t' start a new life I've t' do away with the old past first," he smiled dryly, and ran his hand across her face. Elizabeth gritted her teeth, but stood still.

"I don't see what grudges you can have against Jack. _You_ betrayed _him_, _you_ stole _his_ ship."

Barbossa grinned. "Surprising, that the Pirate King should not understand such a simple thing," he said in a low voice, and Elizabeth shuddered involuntarily when she felt his hand encircling her neck. She raised an eyebrow sceptically. "It's not the grudges that I hold against 'im," Barbossa paused, and dragged Elizabeth away from the crib. Elizabeth glanced at the parrot out of the corner of her eye. The parrot seemed to be looking at her. "It's the lack of grudges that can't be forgiven." Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. Barbossa smiled. "He doesn't make a good pirate, that husband of yers, ye know." Barbossa kicked the door to the side cabin open, and pushed Elizabeth inside. "He gets attached to ships..." He slammed the door shut. "He gets attached to people..." Elizabeth took a step to the side, but Barbossa caught her arm, and threw her onto the bed. "A very unwise thing to do."

Elizabeth quickly straightened up, and wanted to rise to her feet, but Barbossa sat her back down, slumping onto the bed behind her.

_Fly away, fly away..._, thought Elizabeth blankly, staring at the closed door with wide eyes. _Fly away now!_

"An' yet he got the grandest ship in the Caribbean," Barbossa put his hands on Elizabeth's shoulders, and slid the sleeves of her dress down her arms.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, and dug her nails into the mattress. _Fly away, fly away, fly away..._

"He paid with his soul," Elizabeth could not stop herself from adding, her voice quivering so much that she could hardly pronounce the words.

Barbossa sneered, and to Elizabeth's dismay she felt his lips on her shoulder.

_Fly away, oh God, fly away, please. Fly. Away._

"Who cares?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened, when she felt Barbossa's hands travelling from her waist upwards, and hot tears welled up in her eyes blurring her vision.

How could she ever think it would work? The parrot could as well sat on the crib for the entire night. Or Blaxton could have fallen asleep. Or...

"Foolish price t' be paid for somethin' that can be so easily lost. 'Cause now, without payin' any price at all, I'll have _everything_," continued Barbossa in a husky whisper pressing his lips to Elizabeth's neck.

_Fly away, fly away... _

"...his ship..." Barbossa pulled Elizabeth toward him, and her eyes snapped shut almost painfully.

_...flyaway, flyaway..._

"...his wife..."

She cried with her eyes closed, her eyelids burning as if it was hot lava, and not her tears that were trapped under her closed eyelids.

He caught the rim of her dress, and began pulling it upwards.

_...flyawayflyawayflyaway..._

And when she felt his hand on her knee, she screamed in her head, her eyes suddenly snapping open when she realized that she had screamed out loud-

...Or had she?...

She heard Barbossa groan in annoyance, and then the sound finally reached her ears, and she almost gasped at the realization. She had not screamed. It was Blaxton who had screamed. He was crying. He was crying!...

Elizabeth bit her lip in order not to scream herself. Her heart began beating even more furiously (if that was even possible) in her chest than before.

_Smart feather-holder._

"Why is that bastard cryin'?" Asked Barbossa annoyed, and Elizabeth hardly kept herself from hitting him for his choice of words.

_Now you have to play it well, Lizzie. You have to play it bloody well._

"I fed him, he is not hungry," said Elizabeth quietly, feeling a rush of emotions running through her like a series of lightnings, and she was not sure whether it was because she was really afraid, or perhaps in some weird way thrilled by the danger, by her regained – even if only very remote at the moment - control over it.

"So why is he cryin'?" Barbossa roughly turned her around, and looked at her darkly. "Quieten 'im, or I'll do it. I won't be listenin' to that noise all night."

Blaxton's loud cries seemed to resound on the entire ship, and for once Elizabeth was grateful that her son had such a loud, shrill voice when he was upset, because he wanted to eat. And as much as her heart clenched at the sound of his cries, and as much as she could not stand them, because it physically hurt her to hear him sob like that, she was relieved, and hopeful that her plan might work. She just have to stay calm, just stay calm, and keep her voice steady.

"He's sick, and because of that sickness his legs begin to swell from time to time, and that's why he cries," said Elizabeth looking Barbossa straight in the eyes. Blaxton was always kicking his little legs wildly when he wanted to eat. It differentiated this kind of crying from other kinds of crying. It looked almost as if he wanted to get rid of his own legs. Barbossa raised his eyebrows, and the expression of scepticism on his face sent cold shivers down Elizabeth's spine. But she continued talking, and looking at him unblinkingly. "He has to be given medicine in order to-"

"Oh no, we won't have any of that, missy," said Barbossa with a sneer, staggering to his feet, and dragging Elizabeth with him. "If ye hope that I'll send somebody to fetch some medicine for 'im, so ye'd gain some time-"

"I have his medicine with me," cut in Elizabeth with an unmoving face, and she thought that she must have looked very pale, because she could almost feel her face draining of any colour. "I always have his medicine with me, so when-"

Barbossa pulled her to the door with a grimace. He opened the door, and pushed Elizabeth toward the crib.

Blaxton was crying so loudly that Elizabeth could hardly hear her own thoughts.

"Give 'im that medicine, but quick, or else-"

"I don't want to," Elizabeth interrupted him, tucking a loose strand of her behind her ear, her hand shaking in the process.

_Calm down, it will be alright, Lizzie, calm down, you're Captain Elizabeth Sparrow the Pirate King, bloody calm down!..._

"What?" Barbossa narrowed his eyes in annoyance, and glanced angrily at Blaxton, who took a deep breath, and started to cry even louder than before.

"It's a very strong medicine," said Elizabeth in a low voice, licking her dried lips. "If I'll give it to him, he will sleep for the entire night, and half a day."

Barbossa snorted. "That's exactly what we want, Mrs. Sparrow. A night without interruptions. Yer cries will provide enough noise."

"Sometimes he stops crying if I just rock him for an hour or so," said Elizabeth, her hands curling up into fists, and for the first time in her life she really felt like punching someone. Hard.

Barbossa grabbed her by the shoulders, the irritation clear on his face. "Give 'im the bloody medicine, 'cause I'm beginnin' to lose my patience."

"But the doctor said-," Elizabeth bit her lower lip, and grimaced; grimaced from the pain caused by Barbossa's grip on her shoulders, grimaced from fear, and from some odd kind of excitement that her ridiculous plan was actually working. "He said that it is a new medicine, very strong, and it can have some after effects, some side effects," her voice faltered, and she had to yell inwardly at herself in order not to smile at how well her voice faltered, her heart beating so fast that she felt as if it was going to jump out of her chest at any moment. "I don't want to give this medicine to him too often, and I just gave it to him yesterday."

Barbossa snarled. "I don't care, I want the brat t' be quiet," he hissed, and took out his pistol pointing it at the baby. Elizabeth's eyes widened. Barbossa sneered. "I can silence 'im, if ye can't."

Elizabeth glared at him as angrily as she could, and without tearing her eyes off him, reached with her hand to the small pocket in her dress, and took out a glass bottle with transparent liquid.

_Mom, Mom, help me, please. _The words suddenly flashed across Elizabeth's mind, and she felt a twinge of bittersweet feeling at the memory, something that helped her in the most awful moments, even though it hurt. The regret always hurt, and yet now the feeling was slightly different, now it brought more strength than pain, because now she was on both sides of the memory, as if... Now _she_ was a mother, and now she had to bring strength to somebody.

"He doesn't like it," said Elizabeth looking at Barbossa in annoyance. "It must taste awful. Sometimes I just need to rock him-" Elizabeth broke off, and gasped when Barbossa pulled the bottle out of her hand, and glanced at the paper plastered around it.

"I said give it to him," he said looking at Elizabeth intensely.

"Fine," hissed Elizabeth through her gritted teeth, bending down, and gently taking crying Blaxton in her arms. "But you have to help me, I can't hold him, and give it to him at the same time," said Elizabeth irritatedly, hardly hearing her own voice muffled by her racing heart, and she just hoped that her voice sounded just enough annoyed, with hints of worry, and trepidation. "He is always tossing and turning when I want him to drink it, and I have to hold him, so he won't spill the medicine. It won't work if he won't drink the entire portion at once," she explained in a slightly hurried voice, keeping her eyes fixed on Blaxton. She was afraid that if she looked at Barbossa, he would see something in her eyes, something that could give her away. She was also afraid that once in her arms, Blaxton may stop crying, but fortunately (she winced inwardly at the word) he was apparently so hungry that he did not care in whose arms he was, and he just continued screaming.

Barbossa huffed in irritation, uncorked the small bottle, and neared it to the baby's mouth.

"Careful, gently!" exclaimed Elizabeth at the sharpness of his movements.

Barbossa shot her a stern look, but said nothing. The first drops fell between Blaxton's lips, and he calmed down for a brief moment, but as soon as the taste turned out to be apparently different than what he had expected, he began shaking his head, and Elizabeth wondered whether Aqua de Vida indeed did not taste good, or was it perhaps only the fact that it was not _water _that he wanted.

"Shhh," Elizabeth bent her head, and pressed her lips to Blaxton's forehead. "Hush, love, drink up," she whispered, her voice trembling, and so were her thoughts, her heart, her mind, her entire being.

"Drrrink up me hearrrties, yo ho," the cracking voice of the parrot resounded in the cabin, and Elizabeth smiled inwardly, watching the Aqua de Vida flowing slowly into Blaxton's mouth, and she noticed that he slightly calmed down at the sound the parrot's scratchy, quasi-singing voice. Barbossa seemed to pay no attention to the parrot, and Elizabeth thought that he probably thought that it was Cotton's parrot.

But it was not. She smiled faintly, and closed her eyes, unable to stand the tension. It was her parrot, and she tried to distract herself for a moment in order to endure those seconds, those mere seconds that seemed like hours.

"Done," Barbossa's voice caused her to open her eyes, and she slowly opened them to the sight of him closing the empty glass bottle, and throwing it away.

Elizabeth looked at Blaxton who still seemed fairly unhappy, and was on the verge of bursting out crying again. He stared up at her with a hint of adorable annoyance in his brown eyes, and... was it a pout? Yes, he was pouting. Elizabeth smiled inwardly, but then her smile faltered as it crossed her mind that, in fact, she did not know how much time it would take for the person who handed the drink to die... A feeling of dread washed over her, when she thought that if it would take too long...

But her attention was suddenly drew back to Barbossa, who suddenly groaned, and put his hands to his head. Elizabeth took a cautious step backwards, kissed Blaxton on the forehead, and watched Barbossa with a stony face, a glimpse of irony flashing in her eyes.

Barbossa looked at her quizzically, putting his hand to his throat, his breath coming out in raspy gasps. "What- what-," he stammered hoarsely struggling to breathe, his face turning pale at an instant.

Elizabeth took several quick steps away from him, and he reached out, but she was already out of his grasp. He looked in the direction in which he had tossed the bottle, and then back at Elizabeth who stood at the safe distance with her crying son in her arms.

"Thank you, _Captain _Barbossa," said Elizabeth in a cold voice, a supercilious smile hovering over her lips. "I hope you will always remember this day as the day when you _almost _bested mortal Captain Elizabeth Sparrow, and _immortal_ Captain Blaxton Sparrow", said Elizabeth with a small, triumphant smile glaring at Barbossa, who collapsed to the floor with the realization flashing in his eyes.

But as he was falling to the ground he collected all his remaining strength, reached for his pistol, and cocked it a moment before hitting the floor.

Suddenly, the cabin's door burst open.

A pistol fired.

Elizabeth screamed.


	83. Chapter 83

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the fantastic reviews!**_

...& to answer a question that appeared in more than one review: No, I don't think that Blaxton will remain a baby forever. I think he will reach his 20s & then will be forever young (which is of course my highly convenient interpretation of how Aqua de Vida works, but since it's my story... lol:)

...& I think it's the time to tell you that we have only **four (or five) more chapters** **till the end**:)

Disclaimer: Disney own PotC.

**Chapter 83**

"Jack!" Elizabeth ran to him, when he suddenly stormed into the cabin, and fired, hitting Barbossa's hand, and knocking the pistol out of his grasp, before he managed to pull the trigger. "Jack!"

"Out!" Shouted Jack pushing Elizabeth out of the cabin, his eyes fixed on Barbossa who for some reason was lying on the floor, looking rather... dead.

"Jack, he's dead!" Protested Elizabeth.

"Nobody dies 'cause of a hand injury, Lizzie," snapped Jack, cocking his pistol again. "Ye're alright?" He asked, quickly looking her up and down, and attempting to close the door.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, pressing still wildly crying Blaxton to her chest. "Jack. He _is_ dead."

"'Lizbeth-"

Elizabeth grabbed Jack's by his shirt with one hand, and pulled him toward her, causing his lips to crash against hers. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the feeling run through her, that forgotten, blissful feeling of having him near, close, always, at any moment, within reach, within sight, within her world.

"He is dead," repeated Elizabeth under her breath, pulling away, and smiling to herself at the haziness in Jack's eyes. "I will tell you everything in a moment, but I have to feed your son first. He already started pouting at me," she added, looking at Blaxton who presently did not care about anything else, concentrating exclusively on crying.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and cupped Elizabeth's face in his hands, looking at her anxiously, and glancing at Barbossa, not sure what had happened, and whether Barbossa was really dead, and if he was really dead, how it was possible that he was dead.

But as he looked at her, for a moment everything disappeared, and he gently stroked the sides of her face with his fingertips to convince himself that she really was there, with him, again.

"Jack," Elizabeth snuggled her face into Jack's neck, and closed her eyes, the tears welling up behind her eyelids.

Jack wrapped his arms around her, and she placed several kisses on his neck, and looked up.

"Lizzie...," he looked at her searchingly to see whether she was crying because she was alright, or because she wasn't. He brushed some tears away from her face with his thumbs, and when she smiled faintly, he kissed her urgently on the lips, and she kissed him back feverishly, crying even more.

"I have to feed him," whispered Elizabeth drawing back, and looking at Blaxton who kept screaming, not caring what was happening anymore, and even the parrot which screeched in the background did not succeed in attracting his attention this time. "How did you take over the ship?" Asked Elizabeth with a small smile before heading toward the side cabin, shooting Jack a curious look, and knowing the answer as soon as his lips stretched into that unforgettable lop-sided grin of his.

"Luv, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Elizabeth smiled, blinking back the tears. "An' how did ye-" started Jack, still glancing at Barbossa's unmoving body distrustfully.

"I'm Captain Sparrow too," Elizabeth cut him off with a smile, and disappeared in the bedroom door exactly when an awful noise resounded in the corridor, and soon Gibbs, and several other crew members stormed into the cabin screaming threateningly on top of their lungs.

Luckily, the crew had been locked in the same cell where Barbossa had been locked, and as it turned out it had not been Pintel and Ragetti who had forgotten to lock the cell, but it was simply the lock that was broken, so the crew was able to escape from the brig in the same manner in which Barbossa had escaped before, taking over the ship exactly when Jack, Gibbs, and Will had reached it.

"Oi, be quiet!" Jack waved his hands in the air, wincing.

"Oh," muttered Gibbs upon noticing Barbossa, and quickly assuming that such a loud and frightful entrance was rather superfluous.

"Is he dead?" Asked one of the pirates, pointing to Barbossa.

"Apparently... yes," said Jack with a frown, and a twitch of his nose. "But there will be no mistakes this time," he said decidedly. "Mister Gibbs!"

"Aye!"

"Get rid of that," said Jack, wrinkling his forehead. "Into the sea," he added pointedly. "I'm sure somebody will be very glad to see him," he said with a small smirk, and Gibbs, after a moment of consideration smiled knowingly as well.

* * *

Jack stared at the side cabin's door wiggling his fingers in the air, feeling strangely nervous. Cautiously, he pushed the door open, walked in, and stopped dead in his tracks, taken aback by the sight, even though he had at least half-expected to see it... 

"_Pirate or not, this man saved my life." _He could still remember, still _feel _that look in her eyes, the glint of condescension, of anger that had quickly, guiltily replaced curiosity that he had betrayed by flinging the chains around her neck.

And now that wild mermaid in distress was sitting on the edge of the bed with their son in her arms. The baby seemed so peaceful, and content that it was almost unimaginable to think that several minutes ago it was the same baby that was screaming and crying.

Jack stood by the door, feeling strangely superfluous, but only until Elizabeth turned her head, and looked at him.

"_I'm so ready to be married."_

And smiled.

"_I do. I would, I will, I want, I do, I do. I do."_

Jack smiled back at her, and awkwardly rubbed his forehead, before walking toward her, and sitting down on the bed next to her. Blaxton made an effort to slightly lift his head to glance at him, but then relaxed back down, focusing on his meal, and placing one of his tiny hands on Elizabeth's breast, as if to make sure that she would not take it away.

"What is it?" Asked Elizabeth in a whisper, smiling at Jack uncertainly, a bit puzzled by an almost sheepish smile on his face.

He wrapped his arm around her, and rested his chin on her shoulder wondering how could he put into words all those emotions running through him at the moment, all those memories flashing across his mind, forming unimaginable images of the past, clashing with the yet more unimaginable images of the present. Diving into the sea all those months, years ago he would have never guessed even one single day that had followed. He remembered their night on the rum-runners island, the picture of her with her eyes sparkling in the firelight imprinted forever in his mind, painted underneath his eyelids, and he could see it every time he closed his eyes.

"I missed ye, 'Lizbeth," said Jack, looking up at her, her hazel eyes fixed on him, and his hand on her shoulder tightened.

"I'm here," she whispered leaning her cheek against his, and biting her lower lip to hold back the tears.

"Lizzie, don't-" he said lifting his head, and pressing his lips to her cheek.

But she was already crying, the tears rolling down her cheeks, and onto his lips.

He could see her standing in the red coat in the middle of the dark blue night with her hair falling over her shoulders, glimmering in the moonlight when he had told her that they were peas in a pod, and she had seemed as if she had wanted to protest, but there was also a hint of joy in her eyes, of... hope? Of... pride.

Pride. _"It would have never worked out between us, darling." _The moment he had said it, the meaning of it had suddenly hit him. It was a good-bye, he was saying a good-bye, and he was not going to see her ever again. He had been shocked by just how much that simple, obvious realization, startled him, dismayed him. But he had done his best to get rid of that ghost of a feeling. That ghost which had continued haunting him for a year.

He should not have disappeared from her life. He shouldn't have. Was it pride? Was it fear? He had not known. He had focused on the chest, on the key, on all those forgotten shards of the past that had fallen over him before he had even noticed that the time was up, that his debt was due. He had drunk, and schemed, and tried to sleep. Unsuccessfully. He could not really do anything, haunted by a handful of memories. Just a couple of days, of hours!... He had told himself a thousand times that he had seen her grand total of several times. But somehow it had not mattered. Somehow he was always falling asleep with her on his mind.

"I missed you calling me that, I missed _your _name, I missed your smile, your eyes, your hands," whispered Elizabeth between sobs, shaking.

"Hush, luv, it's over." He brushed her hair behind her ear, and nestled his face in her neck.

When she had showed up in Tortuga for the first time, he had thought that it was only a dream, that it was not really happening, that he was not really going to sail with her on board, the idea that had felt threateningly good, dangerously enticing. And that lovely announcement that she had made, and which was going to haunt him for months to come: _"I'm here to find the man I love."_

Elizabeth glanced at Blaxton whose eyes were closed, but he was still sucking, almost unconsciously, peacefully drifting off to sleep.

"He's a very happy baby," said Elizabeth, trying to smile, and stop the tears. "I've been taking good care of him," she added in a faltering voice, fresh tears welling up in her eyes at the memory of the emptiness, and loneliness carrying her to sleep every night.

"Shhh," Jack stroked her hair. "I bet he's happy," he said after a pause, tilting his head to the side. "I'd be too if I was him," he added with a trace of a roguish smile flickering across his lips.

Elizabeth shifted her eyes from the baby to him, the meaning of his words reaching her when she caught the glimpse of mischief in his eyes. "Jack!" She exclaimed in mock-indignation, chuckling through her tears.

He smiled, kissing the tears away, until she at last calmed down enough to stop crying.

"I think he fell asleep," whispered Jack, glancing at Blaxton, his eyes accidentally sweeping over Elizabeth's hand. He blinked. "Lizzie, where is-"

"Shhh," Elizabeth silenced him with a kiss. "I'd like to put him in a crib, but not that one," she grimaced, indicating the main cabin.

Jack shifted his eyes to her bare wrist again, wondering how on Earth had she got that bracelet off. "I'll go get something," he said staggering to his feet, but Elizabeth pulled him down by the sleeve.

She turned around, and gently lie Blaxton down in the middle of the bed, placing a pillow on either side of him. She touched his cheek with the tip of her forefinger, and the baby's mouth twitched. Elizabeth giggled, and turned to Jack.

"You were right," she said smilingly, leaning into his touch when he cupped her face in his hands. "That it would be a boy," she answered his questioning look.

Jack smiled, but then blinked, suddenly startled by the realization what the absence of the bracelet meant. "Lizzie, you-"

"But he has _your_ eyes, so I was right too." She smiled, and he just stared at her in silence.

"Lizzie," he looked her deeply in the eyes. "When I'll be back I need all me due answers, explanations, clarifications, an' specifications as to-"

She inched her lips to his, and smiled slyly. "And I need you in this bed without all those clothes on or I'll go insane," she whispered.

Jack's eyes flew wide-open. "I think we can certainly negotiate a satisfactory reconciliation of those two... _needs_." He kissed her ardently, and smiled.

Elizabeth's mouth twitched, but instead of smiling, she started to cry again, wrapping her arms around his neck. Jack pulled her closer, locking her in his embrace, and she nestled her head into his chest, sobbing. He stroked her hair, running his fingers through her hair almost disbelievingly, and for a moment he felt as if it was that night again, that night when she had disappeared, and when he had thought that he had lost her forever.

"Where did ye go, Lizzie, where did ye go...," he whispered, burying his face in her hair, his hand running up, and down her back.

She tightened her embrace around his neck. "I just went up on deck for a moment," she whispered into his chest, her voice muffled, and quivering. "He gave it to me as a good-bye gift. I didn't want it, but I took it to avoid a pointless discussion, I wanted to take it off right away, but then-" She choked on her tears.

"I know, luv, I know," whispered Jack soothingly, hugging her. "But don't ye ever do that again. Just wake me up before ye go anywhere in the middle of the night, alright?" He said, propping her chin with his hand, and attempting to smile, and sound if only a bit humorous.

Elizabeth bit her lower lip, and smiled brokenly, cupping his face in her hands. "You can tie me to this bed if you want," she said, tracing endless paths with her fingertips across his face.

Jack grinned. "I must say I like yer ideas, as of late, luv."

Elizabeth laughed, wiping the tears away from her eyes with her hand. He looked at her in wonder for a moment, once again struck by her presence. After so many months, after believing her dead, after all the fruitless searching she was here, in his arms, body, and soul, her face, her hair, her eyes, her lips, her hands, her voice-

He crashed his lips against hers, wrapping his arms around her, and pulling her into him, kissing her feverishly, ardently, greedily, trying to make up for the lost time, trying to drink the lost time from her lips, drink her memories of the days when they were not together.

She slid her fingers into his dreadlocks, pulling him closer, suddenly remembering how she had kissed him the last time she had seen him, the last time before- How she had kissed one of his dreadlocks, and how funny it had felt against her mouth, and she wanted to cry again, cry from sorrow, and regret, even though it was over, the worst was over, and now he was here, and he was kissing her with those lips that promised freedom, that offered love, that made her feel safe, and complete, that made her feel as if she reached the safe haven, and yet as if she was in the middle of the storm, in the middle of danger, and safety simultaneously. But there was no real danger as long as he was near, there was nothing to be afraid of as long as his lips were trapping hers, as long as his arms were locked around her, his voice floating in the air, into her ear like iridescent mist filled with music, and his words sounded like music – celestial, like that storm that she had sailed through, and she remembered now that it was how she had called it: celestial. And he was there right on her side, like right now, trailing soft kisses along her neck.

"How did ye take it off, Lizzie? How did ye get yer memory back, luv?" He asked, catching his breath, and resting his forehead against hers.

Elizabeth smiled. "Pirate," she whispered, sliding her hand under his shirt.

Jack blinked. "Lizzie," he started warningly, but Elizabeth giggled, and slowly brushed her lips against his. "Lizzie..."

"What?" Asked Elizabeth smiling coyly, and gliding her hand over his shoulder.

"Out with it," said Jack looking her straight in the eye. "How did ye one: got the bracelet off, two: killed the slimy traitor, three..." he twitched his nose, apparently uncertain what the number three might have been. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow expectantly. Jack glanced down, and then up at her face again. "Three:," he smirked, "how did ye, luv, get that... cleavage."

Elizabeth's eyes widened. "You're awful!" She exclaimed, laughing, and pressed her lips to his, kissing him passionately.

"An' ye're beautiful," he breathed, breaking the kiss, standing up, and taking his coat off.

"What are you-," started Elizabeth smilingly, but before she had a chance to ask her question, she was pulled down onto the floor, or technically onto the coat that was laid on the floor. "Jack, Blaxton!" Elizabeth tried to sat up, but found the task impossible with Jack on top of her.

"He's asleep," said Jack, dismissing the argument. "Besides, he's two months old, an' even with all his inherited brightness, an' cleverness, I highly doubt that he'd be able to make much sense of what will be happening here in a moment," he smiled mischievously, brushing his lips along her collarbones. Elizabeth lie back down with a sigh. "It would do him no harm, even if he woke up." He smiled down at her, and kissed her tenderly.

"Not many things can harm him now indeed," whispered Elizabeth with an enigmatic smile.

"What was that, luv?" Asked Jack with a small, questioning smile, combing her hair with his fingers.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and drew her hand across his cheek. "I said that not many things can harm an immortal Captain Sparrow," said Elizabeth in a casual tone of voice.

"Aye," agreed Jack absently, leaning down, and nuzzling her neck. Elizabeth stifled a chuckle, and waited. And indeed, after a moment, Jack stilled his movements, slowly drew back, and looked down at her with wide eyes. "Lizze, I think I... misheard something," he said, wrinkling his forehead in puzzlement.

Elizabeth took one of Jack's dreadlocks in her hand, and tried to twirl it around her finger. "I said that not many things can harm an immortal Captain Sparrow," she repeated patiently, looking intently at Jack's hair, and not at his face. "Is that what you heard, Jack?" Jack nodded, still staring at her in bewilderment. "So you didn't mishear anything," she said with a sweet smile, cupping his face in her hands, and pulling him into a kiss.

He returned the kiss, and for a while they were just kissing unhurriedly, savouring the moment. "Lizzie-" he whispered, gasping for air.

She placed a finger over his lips, and took a deep breath. "He said that it was his chart, and his wish," said Elizabeth in a low voice. "He said that because Will's wish, my memory loss, was stolen, he could take the bracelet off."

"An' why would he do that? Out of kindness?" Cut in Jack, knitting his eyebrows.

Elizabeth smiled at Jack's question, which happened to be the very same that she had asked of Barbossa. "No," she said, her smile fading slightly, and she placed her hands under Jack's shirt on his shoulders. "He wanted me to kiss him- Jack!" She tightened her grip on his shoulders, and pulled him down, before he managed to stand up. "Where are you going? Kill a dead person?"

He frowned, and she lifted her head, and kissed him softly on the lips. "But I didn't." Jack narrowed his eyes. "I told him to take it off first," she risked a small smile.

Jack smiled cautiously, and kissed her hand when she cupped the side of his face. "Me little pirate."

Elizabeth smiled, but something in her smile caused his smile to falter. "So he took it off, and then?"

"Then I told him to go to hell," whispered Elizabeth with a pout.

Jack gently took her hand in his, and planted a kiss in the palm of her hand. "An' then?"

Elizabeth sighed, and averted her eyes. "Then he kissed me." She waited for a moment, and then looked back at Jack when she felt his lips on her fingertips.

"An' then?" He asked holding her gaze, and looking at her with calm intensity. Without tearing his eyes off her face, he lightly kissed each of her fingertips.

Elizabeth relaxed a little. "And then he left, and I could conjure up a plan...," she paused, and smiled brightly, "with the help of my singing parrot."

Jack wrinkled his forehead. "Your singing-" His eyes widened, and Elizabeth giggled, grabbed him by the dreadlocks, and pulled him down for a kiss.

"I can't believe you remembered that," she whispered smilingly, tracing the contour of his lips with her fingertips.

"Somebody ought to have a good memory in this family," said Jack with a smirk. "An' it's not like it's really singin' anyway," he added frowningly with a twitch of his nose.

"Oh, no, no, no," Elizabeth shook her head decidedly. "It's singing _beautifully_!"

Jack widened his eyes at her. "Beautifully?! The stupid feather-holder didn't even-"

"Ah-ha!" cut in Elizabeth triumphantly. "So you did call him that! I knew it. And he didn't even tell on you."

"Tell on me?! I was teachin' the bloody-"

Elizabeth put her finger across his lips. "I thank you for not insulting my parrot."

"It couldn't even learn one song for-"

"It learnt the entire song!" Interrupted Elizabeth with indignation.

Jack blinked. "It did?" Elizabeth nodded with a smile. "The entire song?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes."

"The right words?"

"Yes"

"In right order?"

"In perfect order."

Jack knitted his eyebrows, and then smiled. "I'm takin' it back, then. It's not a stupid parrot." Elizabeth smiled. Jack frowned. "It's a _mean_ parrot," he said with a pout.

"No, it's not," protested Elizabeth smilingly. "It's a very smart parrot. It showed me where Aqua de Vida wa-" She trailed off, and rolled her eyes. "And now I spoiled the story," she muttered unhappily.

Jack stared at her unblinkingly. "Aqua de Vida," he echoed, the pieces of the mystery beginning to fit together.

In as few words, and as concisely as possible Elizabeth explained what had happened ending her story with a dismissive shrug of her shoulders, and a small, coy smile, furtively watching Jack's face for his reaction.

He looked at her for a moment with an unreadable expression on his face, then he pulled himself upwards, and kneeling by the bed propped his chin on the edge of it, and cautiously peered at the sleeping baby.

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle, and knelt beside him, pressing her cheek to his.

"You mean, he is..." whispered Jack, wrapping his arm around her.

"Yes, it seems that the world will be endowed with an immortal Captain Sparrow, after all," she whispered smilingly.

Jack turned his head to look at her. "That was a good plan, Lizzie," he said with a smirk, leaning toward her, but she drew back abruptly.

"Good? _Good_?!" She exclaimed, but Jack made a shushing gesture, pointing to the baby. Elizabeth brought her face closer to his. "It was brilliant!" she whispered agitatedly.

Jack smiled roguishly. "Now, now, luv," he tucked her hair behind her ear, slowly drawing his hand across her face. "Don't exaggerate..."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in shocked indignation, but then she narrowed her eyes, and threw herself on Jack, knocking him over.

"You're teasing me," she said, looking down at him with amusement sparkling in her eyes, her hair cascading onto his face.

Jack blew a lock of her hair away from his mouth. "Me? Teasing?" He slid his hands into her hair, and pulled her down into a fierce kiss. "I wouldn't dare to tease ye, luv," he smirked, and rolled them over, trapping her underneath him, and pulling her dress down her shoulders.

"I thought you were going to find a crib?" Said Elizabeth with a giggle, tilting her head to the side, when he snuggled his face into her neck, nuzzling, and kissing.

"Not a crib, luv. I'm going to find him a fancy cradle as soon as I'll get back from heaven," he whispered, planting open-mouthed kisses on her shoulders.

"Well, I think we are all in a big cradle already," observed Elizabeth smilingly, pulling Jack's shirt over his head, and tossing it to the side.

He smiled against her cleavage, kissed it, and looked up. "That's right, but-"

"Jack, what's that?" Elizabeth interrupted him sharply, running her hand over his chest.

"What's what?" He asked, puzzled.

"That!" Said Elizabeth lightly brushing the scars on his chest with her fingertips.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and looked at his chest. "Oh, that."

"Yes," Elizabeth looked at him searchingly.

He smiled brightly. "Bullet holes, luv. I think we've discussed that al-"

"Jack!" She cupped his face, and held it in place, stopping him from kissing her. He pouted. "Don't irritate me. How and when did you get the _third_ one?"

"Third one?" Jack blinked innocently, and then looked at himself, pointing to each scar with his finger. "One... two..." Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and huffed in annoyance. "three..." Jack smiled. "Ye're right, luv," he announced happily. "Three."

"Jack," Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at him warningly. "Tell me what happened."

"What happened with what, luv?" He asked, leaning down, but Elizabeth wriggled herself out of his embrace, and sat up to his visible discontentment.

"Jack, this is not funny," she said seriously, wrapping her arms around his neck, and resting her forehead against his. "tell me."

"Tell ye what, lu-"

Elizabeth groaned, and quickly stood up.

"Lizzie," Jack leaped to his feet, caught her by the waist, and spun her around closing her in an embrace before she stormed off the cabin. "Lizzie," he smiled, gently propping her chin with his hand, and forcing her to look at him, because she kept looking around, purposefully avoiding his gaze. "I've been missin' ye for ten months." She shifted her eyes to him. "An' as much as I revel in our fights," he smiled slyly, "maybe we could first make up for the lost time, an' then fight, aye? How is that?" He entangled his hand in her hair, and Elizabeth closed her eyes with a sigh, leaning forward, and meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

"What can't you just tell me what happened?" She asked quietly, cupping the side of his face with her hand.

Jack knitted his eyebrows, and looked at her intently, not really knowing how to talk himself out of telling her the truth.

A knock on the door unexpectedly came to his aid. Jack smiled. "Come in!" He called cheerfully, before Elizabeth managed to protest.

Gibbs peered into the room. "I'm sorry for interruptin'-"

"Just don't tell us he's alive after all," said Jack frowningly, turning to Gibbs, and tightening his embrace around Elizabeth, who tried to snatch herself away, upset that Jack had found another pretext not to answer her question.

"No," Gibbs shook his head with a chuckle. "He's disposed of. That's not it."

"What is it, then?" Asked Jack, and Elizabeth shifted her eyes to Gibbs, suddenly struck by the idea that she could later try to obtain the information she wanted from him rather, than from Jack. Gibbs surely knew what had happened.

Gibbs grimaced slightly. "It's Will," he said with a sigh. Jack rolled his eyes. "He wants to speak with Elizabeth."

* * *

"Well, well, well, look who is here" Bill Turner strolled across the deck of the _Flying Dutchman_, which emerged from the ocean to fulfill its duty, and collect a soul that had died at sea. 

The muffled laughter of the crew accompanied his unhurried footsteps.

"The answer is 'no', so ye may spare yerself, an' everybody else that spectacle," said Barbossa crossing his arms over his chest, and squinting grimly into the distance.

Bill stopped in front of him. "The answer?" He raised his eyebrows, and looked around the deck. "Did I ask any questions?" He asked loudly, glancing at his crew.

"I didn't hear anything, Captain!" Somebody called louder than the others, his answer followed by a series of chuckles.

"Good!" Smiled Bootstrap. "I didn't think I asked anything," he said in a low voice, looking at Barbossa with a ghost of an amused smiled flickering across his face, and a glimpse of solemnity in his eyes.

"No, I don't fear death," said Barbossa mockingly, in a husky whisper, forcing a sour smile.

Bill Turner smiled. "Good for ye," he said, tapping Barbossa on the shoulder. "But I think ye can start with sweepin' the deck. Mr. Maccus ain't very fond of doin' that, ain't that right?" He called turning around.

"Aye, Captain. I ain't like it at all! It ruins me boots." Answered Maccus, and laughed along with the others.

"Yer boots?" Bill Turner took a step backwards, and narrowed his eyes, inspecting the boots of his crew. "Aye, they all ain't look too good," he said glancing at his own boots disapprovingly. "What d' ye suggest we do?" He asked, looking around questioningly.

"It'd be nice if somebody polished them," suggested Koleniko, and a chorus of amused voices agreed with him loudly.

"Aye, that's sounds like a grand idea," Bootstrap nodded smilingly, shifting his eyes to Barbossa who listened to the exchange with a sternly irritated facial expression. "My mother used to say that God is not quick, but he is just," he held Barbossa's gaze for a moment, then took a step backwards. "But let's start with cleanin' the deck!" He said loudly, and walked away with a smile.

* * *

"Why not?" Asked Jack with a pout, at Elizabeth's objection to his idea of bonding Will with ropes, closing him in a barrel, setting the barrel on fire, and throwing it into the sea. 

"Jack," Elizabeth shook her head, laughing.

"Alright. I'll go get a cradle, but Gibbs will stay here. I'm not leavin' ye with that..." he huffed angrily, "alone. Savvy?"

"Savvy, savvy," Elizabeth picked up his shirt, and threw it at him. Jack caught his shirt, looking at her sadly.

Elizabeth ran to him, and snuggled her face into his chest. "I want to have it all over with, and then I want to sail away from here," she whispered, closing her eyes.

Jack embraced her, and pressing her closer to him. "We still have a wedding party to throw in Tortuga," he said with a smile, kissing her hair.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, and looked up. "But we're not going to Tortuga," she said, taking his shirt from him, and helping him to put it on.

Jack raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Well, not right away," amended Elizabeth. "First we have to sail to Shipwreck Cove."

Jack's eyes widened. "What for?" He asked, blinking.

Elizabeth sighed. "For many reasons. But we'll talk about it later, when we set sail," she smiled. "And now I'll finish with that nightmare, and you'll get a cradle, and...," she brushed her lips against his, "get a bath for your wearied wife," she rested her forehead against his. "And then-"

"Get me wife?" He murmured against her lips, pouting.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in mock-consideration. "Yes," she said slowly, "I think that's possible."

"Possible?" He smiled at her with a glimpse of mischief in his eyes. "Inescapable," he breathed, pressing his lips to hers. "Inevitable..." He deepened the kiss. "In-" He stopped, interrupted by a wailing sound. "What's that?"

Elizabeth laughed, and kissed him, before pulling away, and slipping out of his embrace. "This is the sound you'll become very familiar with, I assure you." She quickly walked over to the bed, an picked up crying Blaxton who had just woken up, and actually stopped crying as soon as Elizabeth took him into her arms.

"Oh," acknowledged Jack, giving her a small smile.

Elizabeth kissed the baby's nose, and glanced at Jack, her lips stretching into a sly smile. She was going to take the baby with her, but now that she thought of it...

"Here you go," she said casually, extending her arms, _as if_ she was going to hand him the baby. _As if_, because Jack was certain that it could not possibly be what she had intended to do.

"What are ye doin'?" Asked Jack in a slightly panicked tone of voice, almost jumping backwards.

Elizabeth tried hard not to laugh again. "Come on, Jack. You can hold a baby for several minutes, can't you?" She took a step towards him, and he took a step backwards again.

"Hold? Me? Hold? The baby?" He asked pointing respectively to himself, his arms, and Blaxton.

"Yes," said Elizabeth with a very amused smile. "You, hold, the baby." She backed him against the wall, and outstretched her hands, forcing him to take the baby from her.

"'Lizbeth, I really don't think I know how to-" He looked between her, and the baby with such dismay in his eyes, that Elizabeth could not keep a serious expression on her face.

"Oh, I see," Elizabeth ignored the pleading look in his eyes, and finally made him hold Blaxton, guiding his hands, and showing him how to hold the baby. "You could vanish from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Trading Company, and you could sacked Nassau Port without even firing a shot, but you can't hold a baby?"

Jack swallowed, and looked at Blaxton, who stared up at him with great curiosity, and... "He's laughing at me," said Jack with a hint of wonder in his voice.

Elizabeth smiled, and stroked the baby's cheek with her fingertip. "I'm sure you would laugh at yourself too, if you could see your face at the moment."

Blaxton squealed, and when Elizabeth took a step backwards, his attention returned to Jack. The baby seemed to study the fairly new face intently for a moment, before reaching out, and deftly getting hold of one of Jack's dreadlocks.

Elizabeth walked over to Jack from the side, and rested her chin on his shoulder. "It's alright, you can breathe," she said smilingly, and Jack exhaled hesitantly, even though he still stood very stiffly, afraid to move, keeping the baby exactly how Elizabeth arranged him to, his facial expression terrified.

Elizabeth turned around to open the door, and taking Jack by his shoulders, motioned him to move, and walked him across the main cabin.

"We pillage, we plunder, we rrrifle, an' boot!" Screeched the parrot which was sitting on Jack's desk, but Jack did not even glance at it, and only glared at the bird in his imagination, his eyes fixed at Blaxton, as if he was afraid that if he stopped looking at the baby, he would drop it.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at the parrot playfully. "I think I see what you meant," she said to Jack with a chuckle, opening the main cabin door.

"Told ye it's mean, luv," muttered Jack, tilting his head downwards, when Blaxton pulled his dreadlock, smiling gleefully.

Walking into the corridor, he did not even notice Will who was waiting by the door for his conversation with Elizabeth.

"I'll send Gibbs-," started Jack in a strained voiced, which made Elizabeth giggle. It seemed that he tried to speak in a monotonous voice in order to... Well, she could not quite guess why, but it certainly had something to do with holding the baby.

"I'll be fine on my own. Just be back in a quarter of an hour," she stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. Blaxton waved his hands at her, and she leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Off you go," she said with a smile, lightly pushing Jack toward the stairs.

"Lizzie, wait!" He called in a panicky voice, when she turned around to apparently go back to the Captain's Quarters. "Ye can't leave me like that, 'Lizbeth!"

"Yes, I can!" Called Elizabeth cheerfully, turning her eyes to Will, the smile disappearing from her face.

"Thank you," whispered Will. "Thank you that you agreed to see me."

Elizabeth held his gaze grimly for a moment, and then walked into the cabin. Will took a deep breath, and followed her. The door closed behind them.

"Lizzie!" Jack, very slowly, and cautiously turned around, but the corridor was already empty. "Bugger," he whispered, stiffening even more.

Blaxton clapped his hands, and squealed joyfully. Jack darted his frightened eyes to him, and the baby stopped clapping his hands, and looked at him expectantly, reaching out to grab one of his trinkets. Jack stared at him wide-eyed, and very quietly, almost inaudibly whispered: "Help."

The baby giggled.


	84. Chapter 84

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the great reviews:)**_

Questions: _CJS_: I am writing another story already! You can find the link on my profile:)

Spoiler: Time to say good-bye to Will:) This is the last chapter with him in it. Please, don't cry! lol

Disclaimer: I don't own PotC.

**Chapter 84**

"Elizabeth-"

"I don't want to talk to you," cut in Elizabeth coldly, walking to the desk.

"I understand," said Will with a sigh.

"I just agreed to see you, so you could give letters from me to Giselle, and to Mrs. Roggson," said Elizabeth sitting at Jack's desk, and spreading a sheet of paper in front of her. "I don't want to leave without saying a good-bye, but I don't want to go back to do it in person either. I'm not going to risk that something might happen," she added after a pause, reaching for a quill. "So I just want to write a few words to them."

Will nodded mutely, dropping his gaze to the floor.

* * *

Jack looked at the stairs in apprehension. He had never noticed how steep, and dangerous those stairs really were. They were definitely too steep for a person who was holding a baby, as they required lifting one's feet considerably high up in the air, which, no doubt, could cause a loss of balance, and consequently a fatal fall.

Turning away from the stairs leading onto the main deck, Jack looked towards the stairs leading to the rum cellar, a small smirk quickly appearing on his lips, but fading with equal speed. Stairs. And it did not matter that in case of these stairs he would have to walk down instead of climbing up. They were still stairs, and he would have to slightly bend forward while walking, and-

He almost shuddered at the thought.

"Bugger," he muttered frowningly, receiving a giggle from Blaxton.

The baby studied his face with exceptional intensity, playing with his dreadlocks, and his trinkets, smiling, and giggling, and having, apparently, the time of its life, unlike Jack whose hands began to hurt, because he kept them so stiffly, afraid to change the way in which Elizabeth had arranged his arms even for a fraction of an inch.

It felt so awkward to hold something so small, and fragile and, most importantly, _alive_. Every movement of the baby caused Jack's heart to skip a bit, and he was afraid that Blaxton may somehow wiggle out of his arms, and yet he could not really hug him tighter, because he was afraid that he might squash him.

"Mommy left us all alone, eh?" Said Jack, glancing around frustratingly. Since the stairs were not an option, the only place to go seemed to be the galley, but somebody might be there, and he did not really fancy the idea of being seen in such a state of mixed awkwardness, and anxiety, and...

Blaxton let go of one of the trinkets, and tapped the side of Jack's face with his tiny hand.

Jack stared at him wide-eyed for a moment, overwhelmed by a sudden feeling, a very strange feeling that he could not quite name, a feeling on the verge of pride and worry, on the verge of...

The baby reached to his nose, squeezed it, and quickly drew back its hand, smiling gleefully.

Jack smirked. "Little teaser like yer mommy, aren't ye?"

The baby giggled in apparent agreement, tilting its head to the side, and then, suddenly, when Jack looked into the baby's brown eyes a strange realization dawned on him, the realization that this baby was his baby; that this baby was his son, his and his Lizzie's son, and that he was responsible for this baby, and that somehow it was not only a burden that he did not mind to carry, but it was also a burden that carried a strange, new, challenging kind of freedom that he actually _wanted_ to carry.

He smiled at the baby, and the baby squealed, and smiled back at him.

* * *

Will stood silently, watching Elizabeth's hand writing long strings of letters in black ink. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth," he said, breaking the silence, and glancing at her face, but she kept her eyes fixed on the paper, and did not look up when he had spoken. "I know that... nothing that I'll say is going to change what happened, but..."

"Drrrink up!" The parrot flew from the other side of the room, and landed on Elizabeth's shoulder.

Elizabeth glanced at the parrot giving it a faint smile. "You stole ten months of my life," she said in a low voice, unexpectedly shifting her eyes to Will, who stared at her mutely. "I don't care whether you're sorry or not, especially that it was not you who ended it. If it would have been up to you-"

"I wanted to tell you," Will broke in, taking a step toward the desk.

Elizabeth turned her attention back to her letters.

"I really did," he whispered. "I just couldn't find the right moment, and-"

"Stop it!" Elizabeth shot him a sharp look, and hid her face in her hands.

Will looked away. "I hardly remember what I was thinking. I don't even know why I did it. Not anymore... How could I have believed that I could have made you feel something that you had never felt," his voice faltered, the last word barely audible.

Elizabeth dipped the quill in the black ink.

"Have you ever loved me?" Asked Will after a pause in an exhausted tone of voice, and yet there was a certain urgency in it that made Elizabeth look up.

"I explained that to you already. I told you, many moths ago that I did, I did love you. As a friend, as a... brother, as someone whom I respected, but you've lost it all. How can I treat you like a friend after all that? You deceived me, and-"

"He deceived you more than once, and you don't seem to mind," he could not help snapping, even though he knew that perhaps he should have kept silent. He had no right to judge others, not after what he had chosen to do.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"That was it, then?" She asked sharply, in a slightly trembling voice. "That was how you thought it would work? You thought that if I would lose my memory, I would fall in love with you only because you were at hand?" She tossed the quill onto the desk, and rose to her feet. "That I fell in love with Jack only because I did not remember you?" Elizabeth walked around the desk, and stood in front of Will. The parrot flew off her shoulder, and sat on the desk. "You wanted to do the same thing, you wanted to do what he had done," Added Elizabeth after a moment of consideration in an almost disbelieving tone of voice. "What were you thinking?" She asked quietly, crossing her arms over her chest, and looking at him incredulously.

Will stared at her, for a longer while unable to utter a word.

"I am so tired, Elizabeth," he said at last, in a low voice. "I'm so tired of fighting for everything. I never wanted to fight. I don't even remember how it all started," he shrugged. "I don't want to remember. I'm just...," he looked around, shaking his head helplessly. "I loved you," he said softly, darting his eyes back to Elizabeth, a small, broken smile flickering across his lips. "I just couldn't understand that you didn't. I'm sorry." They stood for a moment looking at each other until Elizabeth averted her eyes, blinking back tears.

"I know that," she said under her breath. "I know that you meant well," she said hollowly.

Will blinked, quite taken aback by her words. "Well for whom?" He asked with a weak snort. "I never meant to hurt you, but... I don't think I was exactly thinking about your feelings more than about my own."

Elizabeth chuckled bitterly. "And of whose feeling do you think I was thinking when-" She trailed off with a sigh.

"So we're all selfish, then," said Will lowly, dropping his gaze to the floor. "But it still does not justify my actions. You should have spent that year where you had wanted to spend it, and now I can't give it back to you- "

"Pirates," she whispered more to herself than to him.

"What?" Will looked up at her questioningly.

Elizabeth smiled faintly. "Pirates," she repeated, even though he seemed not to understand. "And don't look that gloomy. Makes me feel guilty."

"Will you forgive me?" He asked hurriedly, encouraged by a hint of humour in her voice.

She studied his face for a moment. "I'm tired too," she whispered, biting her lip. "I just want to be happy," she looked away, the tears that she had tried to hold back rolling down her cheeks. "I'm tired of blood, of death, of deception, of guilt, and sorrow," she brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. She stared thoughtfully into the distance for a moment, before shifting her eyes back to him. "Will _you_ forgive _me_?" She asked with a grimace.

Will blinked. "Elizabeth-" he wrinkled his forehead, and took a step toward her.

"I'm serious," said Elizabeth firmly, cutting him off, and looking him deeply in the eyes with strange expectancy.

He was returning her gaze silently for a while, before suddenly the message in her eyes reached him, and he understood that it was either too late, or too early for any exhaustive discussions, for superfluous explanation, and flat apologies.

He nodded, taking a few more steps forward. "I forgive you."

Elizabeth smiled brokenly through her tears. "I forgive you too," she said in a quivering voice, extending her hands to him.

He stared at her in utter disbelief, and then smiled, and swept her into his arms hugging her close. Elizabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, and sobbed, and she could feel that he was crying as well, but neither of them spoke, and they just stood in an embrace for a moment before pulling away.

"Be happy," said Will, attempting to sound threatening, but his voice faltered, and Elizabeth laughed.

"I will," she said, gritting her teeth to steady her voice. "You too."

Will nodded, and they squeezed each other's hands.

"Your letters," reminded her Will with a smile.

"Oh yes," Elizabeth smiled faintly, and went over to the desk. She sat down, and finished her letters in silence, folding them neatly, and putting the names on the front folds. "Here," she said, handing the letters to Will.

"Good-bye, Elizabeth," he said, shifting his eyes from the letters to her face.

"Good-bye, Will," she replied with a smile, the tears glimmering in her eyes.

"I am sorry for making you cry," he added in a low voice holding her gaze for a moment.

She nodded, and they smiled at each other, and then Will opened the door, and casting one last glance at her over his shoulder, quickly left the Captain's Quarters, slamming the door, and the past shut behind him.

Elizabeth looked at the door, and ran her hands across her face with a sigh. It was over. At last. At last it was all over. She wanted to turn away from the door, but then the door suddenly opened. Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, hoping that it was not Will again.

But it was not Will, and she smiled at the sight of Pintel and Ragetti carrying a bathtub into the cabin.

"Where is Jack?" Asked Elizabeth smilingly, when they had put the tub down.

Ragetti opened his mouth to answer, but Pintel elbowed him. "I don't think we should talk to 'er," whispered Pintel into Ragetti's ear.

"Why not?" Asked Ragetti in a loud voice. Pintel kicked his shin.

"'Cause we're not supposed to show that we know who she is!" Whispered Pintel through his gritted teeth. "Remember? Ye ain't want t' be struck by a lightnin', do ye?"

Ragetti seemed to consider this for a moment.

Elizabeth listened to their nonsensical exchange, wrinkling her forehead in confusion. At last she rolled her eyes, and went out of the cabin deciding that it certainly would be easier and faster to find Jack on her own.

* * *

Contrary to Elizabeth's expectation, Jack proved to be hard to find. Nobody knew where he was, and Elizabeth had to walk around the ship herself, look into the cabins, and in the act of desperation she even went to the rum cellar, struck by an idea that Jack might have wanted to show his son one of his favorite places.

However, she was somewhat relieved when she did not find them there, after all.

Them. She smiled to herself. Them: her husband and her son. And only a year ago who would have thought-

She stopped in her tracks by the galley's door at the sound of familiar voices. Carefully, she pushed the door open, and peered inside, grinning even before she actually saw Jack standing with his back turned toward the door in the middle of the room with the baby in his arms.

"...an' then they made me their chief," said Jack, looking at Blaxton with a smile.

"I'd really love to hear that story too," said Elizabeth in a soft voice, leaning against the door frame with a bright smile on her face.

Jack turned around, grinning. "I have a special set of stories, just for you, luv," he said, slowly walking towards her, and she noticed, somewhat amused, that he apparently tried to walk as straight as possible without his usual swagger. "That was a short conversation," he said in a low voice, looking at her searchingly.

"It wasn't really a conversation," said Elizabeth with a shrug, and a small smile, stroking the baby's cheek with the back of her forefinger. "He said he was sorry, I said I was sorry, he said good-bye, I said good-bye," she looked up at Jack with an impish smile. "But I like when you're jealous."

Jack's eyes widened at an instant. "Jealous?" He asked, looking mockingly aghast.

Elizabeth laughed. "Yes." She reached out. "And now give me back my baby."

"My baby," said Jack pointedly with an impish smile, putting Blaxton into Elizabeth's arms.

Elizabeth smiled brightly, and wanted to say something, but was cut off by Blaxton who grimaced, waving his hands, and reaching out to Jack. Elizabeth blinked, looking at her son with disbelief.

Jack smirked triumphantly. "Jealous?" He asked, amused.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "Very well," she said thrusting up her chin, and giving the baby back to Jack, and noting, not without astonishment that Blaxton calmed down at an instant, grabbing one of his father's dreadlocks, and trying to dig his tiny fingers in it. "If you prefer holding your son to bathing with your wife, that's your choice. I will bath alone, then," she smiled victoriously at Jack's dismayed facial expression, and left the galley, before Jack managed to stop her, starting to laugh only when she made it back to Captain's Quarters.

* * *

"Come in!" Called Bill Turner rising to his feet from his chair at the desk.

Hesitantly, Will opened the door, and walked into the _Flying Dutchman_'s Captain's Quarters.

Bootstrap smiled faintly.

Will took a deep breath. "I wanted to..." he started exhaustedly.

"A, A, A," broke in Bill, putting his hands on Will's shoulders.

Wrinkling his forehead in slight confusion, Will lifted his gaze from the floor.

"Apologize," said Bootstrap with a small smile, looking at his son intently.

Will glanced around the cabin, and then darted his eyes back to his father's face, his words sinking in.

"I did," replied Will lowly.

"Atone," said Bill under his breath.

Will sighed. "Did and will."

Bootstrap smiled thoughtfully, and pulled his son into a brief, strong embrace.

"What's the third 'A' stands for?" Asked Will, risking a cautious smile.

Bill Turner smiled. "_A_ndmove on."

Will returned his father's smile, and nodded.

* * *

"Lizzie?"

Elizabeth smiled to herself, and opened the door to the Captain's Quarters quickly acquiring a serious facial expression. But as soon as she saw Jack at the door looking positively hurt, she could not help but smile.

"Did you change your mind?" She asked haughtily, trying to keep herself from laughing.

Jack stepped into the cabin. "It never was what I had in mind in the first place," he said with a pout.

Elizabeth smiled, and took Blaxton out of his arms despite the baby's protests. She cast Jack a pretendedly upset glance.

Jack grinned. "It's only the dreadlocks, luv. I'm sure if ye had dreadlocks he'd like ye better," he said, closing, and locking the door behind him.

"He does like me better!" exclaimed Elizabeth, looking aghast.

Blaxton giggled. Jack smiled.

Elizabeth frowned. "This is not funny," she said in a low voice, leaning down, and kissing the baby on the forehead, finally getting back its attention. Blaxton reached for her face, closing his little fingers around her chin, which cheered her up a bit.

"Now, luv, don't worry." Jack walked around her, and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, propping his chin on her shoulder. "Dreadlocks are easy to make."

Elizabeth was about to retort, but then Blaxton let go of her chin, waving his hands toward Jack's face. Jack beamed.

Elizabeth huffed in exasperation. "We'll see whom you like better when you get hungry," she muttered in a playfully threatening tone of voice, kissing the smiling baby on the nose. "Little buccaneering sweetheart," she added, turning around, and suddenly spotting a brand-new, wooden cradle standing in the middle of the cabin. "Jack, how did you- when did you-," she looked at him incredulously.

Jack shook his head with a sigh. "Lizzie-luv, how many times do I have to tell ye: I'm Captain-"

The knock on the door interrupted him. "It's locked!" He called half-triumphantly, half-irritatedly.

"Jack!" Elizabeth shot him an amused look.

"It's only me," came Gibbs' uncertain voice from the other side of the door.

Jack rolled his eyes, unlocked the door, and opened it hastily. "_Only_ is a matter of perspective," he said pointedly.

Gibbs smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I'd like t' have a word with ye, Jack."

* * *

Saying good-bye to Elizabeth, and then saying good-bye to his father made Will feel strangely sad, and thoughtful, and relieved in a way too, but predominantly sad, and rueful. Something had ended. An important part of his life had ended, and that part was going to sail away from him forever. He was not going to see his father in the next nine years, and most likely, he was not going to see Elizabeth _ever_ again.

Yet, thinking about it caused him no pain, the pain was gone, crushed by guilt, and forgiveness, the forgiveness that he had not dreamt of being granted. The pain was gone along with love, that love which had evaporated during those ten months, injured by indifference, awkwardness, bitterness, and eventually killed when he at last noticed, when he at last understood that her heart belonged to another. Another man, another place, another way of living.

He inhaled deeply, staring at the ground as he slowly walked away from the sea following a dusty path leading back to Maldream.

He did not know what he was going to do. He did not even know what he wanted to do. Perhaps he should move out from the village, as he did not know how could he explain the disappearance of Elizabeth and the baby. He could say that she left him, of course, as simple as that, but it would not be fair to put the blame on Elizabeth, and tarnish her name, in a way, for a woman leaving her husband would certainly not be talked about with respect.

Deep in thought, he almost did not notice when he reached the house, mildly surprised that he reached it so soon, and only his legs which felt very tired were the proof of his hours-long walk.

Reluctantly, he opened the door, and walked into the house, and was immediately taken aback by the strange smell circulating inside. He sniffed suspiciously, and knitted his eyebrows together in puzzlement.

Peering into the kitchen, his eyes widened at the sight of the table dressed decoratively, plates with various foods, and cakes neatly set on it, the kitchen floor shining to the point of hurting his eyes.

Blinking in bafflement, Will directed his steps to the room where his brief duel with Jack had taken place. For some reason it did not really surprise him that the room was as tidy as it perhaps had never been before, the broken glass had been removed from the floor, the chairs were set aside, the floor polished...

He stared at the window for a moment.

Yes. And the fresh curtains had been hanged, and the windows were apparently washed.

Rubbing his forehead in bewilderment, Will turned around, unexpectedly coming face to face with the person walking down the stairs carrying a rather large bowl of water in her hands.

"Good evening," said Will in a low voice.

Giselle gasped in surprise, his voice startling her, and she lost her balance, dropping the bowl, the water splashing all over the stairs, and if it was not for Will who leaped over a few steps, and caught her in the mid-flight, she would certainly fall down the staircase.

"You scared me," she said with a faint smile, quickly regaining her composure.

Will unwrapped his arms from around her, and nodded with a half-hearted smile. "I'm sorry," he said in a low voice, almost asking her what she was doing here, but deciding that it would sound rather impolite.

Giselle smiled, apparently reading his mind. "I came here in the afternoon, and the house was empty, all the doors wide open, furniture disordered," she smiled waving her hand to emphasize her point. "So I decided to tidy up a bit. I hope you don't mind," she added, when he did not say anything, looking at her almost blankly.

"No, of course not," he answered quickly, noticing her gaze. "It was... a long day, and I'm just... tired..."

Giselle nodded, smiling faintly. "I made a little dinner, in case you were all back late," she hesitated for a moment. "Is Elizabeth here?" She asked cautiously.

Will looked at her pensively, but then suddenly remembering something he reached to his pocket. "I have a letter for you," he said looking at the two folded pieces of paper, and giving to Giselle the one addressed to her. "The second one is to Mrs. Roggson," he added in a whisper, looking absent-mindedly at the letter for a moment, before putting it away.

He felt so utterly exhausted that he did not even have enough strength to think.

Giselle seemed a bit puzzled, but after a moment of consideration she opened the letter, and read it as quickly as possible, impatient for the news.

"She left," said Giselle quietly after a moment of silence, glancing at Will.

"Yes," Will turned around, and slowly walked down the stairs. "She left with her husband, and with their baby," he whispered more to himself than to her.

Giselle quickly finished the letter, and followed him to the kitchen. "It must be a long story," she said, stopping in the doorway.

"It is a long story," agreed Will staring out of the window.

Giselle swiftly walked into the kitchen, and sat in one of the chairs at the table. "It's good that we have the entire evening, then," she said conversationally.

Will darted his eyes to her in slight disbelief, watching for a moment as she busied herself with the tableware.

"I highly doubt you would still wish to talk to me if I told you what I have done," he said in a serious tone of voice.

Giselle narrowed her eyes at him. "I will take my chances," she said with an amused smile.

Will looked at her doubtfully. She sighed, and rose to her feet, walking toward him.

"I've told you worse things about me," she said pensively, leaning her head against the window frame, and staring out into the darkening evening sky.

"How do you know they are worse?" He asked, shifting his eyes to her. "I think mine are definitely worse," he stated decidedly.

Giselle smiled, her eyes still fixed on the landscape outside. "I guess we'll never find out if you won't tell me about your evil deeds," she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.

"They were evil," he said in a solemn voice, studying her face.

She looked at him with an amused smile hovering over her lips. "It's almost dark," she said pointing toward the window. "Just the right time for scary stories."

Will shook his head, smiling tiredly. He averted his eyes, absently looking around the kitchen. "I don't think you really want to hear-" he started, but did not have the chance to finish, because suddenly Giselle leaned forward brushing the words away from his lips with a soft kiss.

"I really want to hear," she whispered convincingly, pulling away before he even had the time to comprehend what had just happened.

Will stared at her wide-eyed. "Well..." he said at last, recovering from astonishment. "If you _really_ want to hear..."

Giselle tilted her head to the side, and nodded, returning his smile.

* * *

When Jack left the cabin to talk to Gibbs, Elizabeth fed Blaxton, and then for quite a bit of time walked around the cabin rocking him to sleep, and finally putting him down in the cradle, staring at the baby's sleeping face for a longer while.

Despite her jocular remarks she was absolutely delighted at how fond the baby was of Jack, and she was not jealous, not at all (which did not mean that she could not use the subject to taunt Jack a bit). She was also very happy about Jack's reaction to the baby, although she honestly had not expected less of him.

"He looks like ye when he's asleep."

Elizabeth jumped in surprise, and swirled around landing directly in Jack's arms.

She looked at him thoughtfully, and with deliberate lack of hurry wrapped her arms around his neck. "No," she shook her head with a smile. "Awake or asleep, he looks like you," she leaned forward slowly pressing her lips to his.

Cupping her face in his hands Jack kissed her ardently, breaking the kiss repeatedly, and whispering her name against her lips over and over again.

Elizabeth laughed at first, but then something broke within her, and she burst out crying snuggling her head into his chest while he held her close, hugging her tightly, and running his hands up, and down her back, sifting her hair through his fingers, twirling her golden (_gold like gold_, he though with an inward smirk remembering Tortuga, remembering the moment right before she had woken up with no memory, but with the brand-new life awaiting her) hair around his fingers.

"It's the last time I'm crying _ever_," she muttered into his chest, rubbing her face against the fabric of his shirt. "I promise."

"No, Lizzie." Jack gently propped her head with his hand. "This is _my _promise," he said looking at her solemnly, and pressing his lips to her smiling ones.

"So what should we start with?" Asked Elizabeth resting her forehead against his, and cupping his face in her hands.

"An' what are the options?" He inquired brushing his lips against hers.

Elizabeth returned the kiss, but drew back before he deepened the kiss, giggling at his mockingly hurt facial expression. "One: our bath," she said tugging on his shirt with playful capriciousness.

"I like that one," said Jack smiling impishly.

"Two: your explanation concerning the number of certain holes in your chest," she said eyeing him suspiciously.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Three?" He asked, seemingly ignoring the second option.

"Three..." Elizabeth wrinkled her forehead, trying to think of a third option.

Jack grinned. "I pick number three."

Elizabeth blinked, baffled. "But I didn't even say- Jack!" She exclaimed when Jack swept her into her arms, but then she covered her mouth with her hand glancing at Blaxton with apprehension, afraid that her scream might have woken him up, but fortunately the baby's only reaction was a twitch of its tiny nose.

Jack kicked the door to the side cabin open, and placed Elizabeth on the bed hovering over her. She interlaced her fingers on the back of his head looking at him expectantly.

"I say we do number three first," he proposed matter-of-factly, "then we do... number three again," Elizabeth giggled. "Then-"

"Number three one more time," she broke in smilingly.

"Precisely," agreed Jack with a grin. "And then we do number one, followed by number three, number three, and," he paused to lean down and kiss her, "number three, and then," he took a deep breath, "we may negotiate doing number two. What say ye, luv?"

Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, but then the crying coming from the main cabin broke into their conversation. She cupped Jack's face in her hands, grinning. "I say we add number four: welcome to the family life, Captain Sparrow," said Elizabeth smilingly, before they both staggered to their feet, and hand in hand went to check on Blaxton.


	85. Chapter 85

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews!**_

Disclaimer: Jack, Elizabeth, etc. belong to Disney.

**Chapter 85**

"He has such tiny fingers," marveled Elizabeth, smiling when Blaxton closed all of his fingers around her thumb.

"Aye. Never seen little fingers like that this close before," Jack smiled thoughtfully, shifting his eyes between his wife, and his son.

Elizabeth laughed, both she and Jack lying on their sides on the bed, their heads propped on their elbows, Blaxton squealing cheerfully in the middle of the bed in between them. They had tried to put him to sleep, they had tried rocking him, singing to him, talking to him, they had even had the parrot screeching the song to him, but all of that to no avail. Blaxton smiled, and laughed, but absolutely refused to sleep.

"I've never seen a baby this close before either," said Elizabeth smilingly, leaning over the baby, and kissing its tiny hand. "Before he was born, I mean," she added, glancing at Jack, and stroking the baby's cheek with her fingertips. "He seems so fragile, at the beginning I was almost afraid to touch him, I thought that I would hurt him by mere touch."

Blaxton kicked gleefully, reaching out for a lock of Elizabeth's hair that had fallen over her shoulder. Elizabeth smiled brightly, and then looked up, feeling Jack's hand on her cheek. He smiled at her, not exactly his usual smile, but a new, enigmatic smile that she had noticed only few hours ago, a glimpse of slightly sheepish thoughtfulness in his eyes.

"A fancy name ye came up with for him, luv," he observed with a smile.

Elizabeth smiled back, leaning into his touch when he cupped the side of her face. "_Black _was on my list, after all," she said with a sigh, her smile slowly fading. "I would've named him _Jack_ if I-"

Jack pressed his thumb across her lips. Elizabeth smiled, and he ran his finger along her lower lip. "You chose the best names one could think of." Elizabeth smiled even more. "Blaxton Weatherby. He can go straight to London, and to the Parliament with such names," added Jack with a very serious facial expression.

Elizabeth's eyes widened at an instant. "I knew you don't like it!" She exclaimed with a nervous laugh, half-amused, half-aghast.

"What?" Jack blinked. "I just said that these are the best names ever invented," he stated resolutely, the glimpse of mischief flickering in his eyes. "Besides," he cleared his throat, "nothing is lost in that matter, in the matter of... naming, so to speak" he amended, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Elizabeth stared at him for a moment, before the meaning of his words registered in her mind. "Oh no, no, no," she straightened up, shaking her head. "I was feeling positively awful throughout. "I'm not doing it again," she said with a small pout, examining her fingernails, but watching Jack out of the corner of her eye.

Now Jack's eyes widened in turn. "What do ye mean, luv?"

She looked up at him looking as seriously as possible, and trying to guess whether he was also only pretending to be serious.

But then suddenly she remembered something, and giggled despite her efforts to keep herself from laughing. Jack smiled, giving her a questioning look.

"I just-" Elizabeth laughed again. "Poor Will," she said, glancing at Jack who did not seem too pleased with the mentioning of the name. "I was being really awful," added Elizabeth quickly, to clarify her point, and avoid an argument, although she really did enjoy seeing that glimpse of jealousy in his eyes. "I was feeling awful, and everything seemed so irritating, and I was yelling at him for completely ridiculous reasons every chance I got." She looked up at Jack.

"He most definitely deserved that," Jack commented drily, looking at her intently.

Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. "You're still jealous of him!?" She said disbelievingly, smiling.

"Am not!" Exclaimed Jack indignantly.

Blaxton broke into their exchange, squealing gleefully.

"I know what he likes!" Elizabeth clasped her hands changing the topic, and shifting her eyes between Jack and Blaxton. "He likes when you pout!"

"I ain't poutin'!" Pouted Jack.

Blaxton giggled, waving his tiny hands in the air. Elizabeth looked at Jack, smiling triumphantly.

Jack furrowed his brows, but then another thought crossed his mind. "What if he doesn't need to sleep?" He asked, darting his eyes from Blaxton to Elizabeth with sincere apprehension.

"What do you mean?" Asked Elizabeth wrinkling her forehead in confusion.

Jack leaned forward, and Elizabeth mirrored his movements, their faces almost touching. "Maybe he doesn't need to sleep if he is immortal," explained Jack in a conspirational whisper, and although Elizabeth's first reaction was a snort, she gave the idea second thought, and they both looked at their son curiously.

"No," Elizabeth broke the moment of silence, shaking her head decidedly. "He did eat after drinking Aqua de Vida, so if he has to eat it means that he also has to sleep. I think," she added with a shrug, searching Jack's face for confirmation.

"Aye," agreed Jack, glancing at the baby a bit suspiciously. "So maybe he just wants ye an' yer attention all to himself?" Elizabeth smiled, leaned toward Jack, and kissed him softly on the lips. "Can't blame him, really," said Jack, slowly drawing his hand across her face. Elizabeth closed her eyes, and leaned into his touch. "Missed ye like hell, Lizzie," whispered Jack almost inaudibly, and Elizabeth's eyes snapped open.

"You won't have to miss me anymore," she rested her forehead against his, and wrapped her arms around his neck. He gave her his lop-sided grin, pulling her closer. "Watch out-" Elizabeth glanced at the baby. "Jack, he fell asleep!"

Blaxton lie with his head tilted to the side, his hands curled up into fists on both sides of his head. He twitched his tiny nose once or twice, breathing steadily.

"It's so strange..." Elizabeth bent over the baby, and gently took the little boy into her arms. "That he is ours," she carefully slid off the bed, rising to her feet. "I mean," she smiled. "It is strange to think that he is made of me and you-" she trailed off, shaking her head with an embarrassed smile. "I'm making no sense, but-"

"You do, luv," Jack stood up as well, walking over to her. "You do make sense," he tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear.

She smiled. "Maybe I will put him into the cradle, and you will get the water for our bath?"

"Sounds more than brilliant to me. An' I think it's also high time to set sail," Jack opened the door for Elizabeth to walk through.

Elizabeth turned around, and kissed him. "Shipwreck Cove," she reminded him sweetly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Why?" He asked with a very unhappy expression on his face.

"Firstly, because I want Blaxton to meet his grandfather."

Jack blinked, looking at Elizabeth as if he had no idea whom she was talking about. "Grandfather?" He echoed in a blank voice.

"Jack," Elizabeth looked at him seriously. "He has no grandmothers, and your father is his only grandfather, so I really think-"

"My father?!" Jack cut her off, looking sincerely surprised, to say the least.

"Yes, I believe that your father is Blaxton's grandfather, unless my reasoning is incorrect. If it is, please, by all means, do correct me," said Elizabeth holding back a smile, amused by the expression on Jack's face, as if he really tried to make the connection.

"I don't think he makes a particularly... dazzlin' father... figure, or grandfather figure, for that matter," said Jack cautiously, slightly narrowing his eyes.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side looking at him thoughtfully. "Well, I'm not planning on leaving him in charge of our son, I just think that he should meet his grandson," replied Elizabeth, a bit intrigued, but not really knowing how to ask about what she wanted to know. "Besides," she added after a pause, changing the topic for the time being, "that's only one of the reasons. The other is that I would like to see my ship, talk to my first mate..."

Jack winced at that.

"What?" Elizabeth eyed him suspiciously.

"Nothing," answered Jack with a very guiltily innocent facial expression.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "What isthatall about?"

Jack waved his hand dismissively. "Any other reasons, luv?"

Elizabeth sighed, but let the matter drop. It seemed that every topic that she had tried to start, she had to abandon, and she was afraid that she might forget all those unexplained things that she wanted to investigate. She already forgot the first one... What was the first one? Oh yes, the third bullet hole. The bullet hole, Captain Teague Sparrow, the _Empress_. _Making a list would be a good idea_, she thought drily.

Turning around, she walked to the cradle, and lowered Blaxton onto the soft fabrics. She brushed a strand of black hair away from his forehead, leaned down, and kissed the baby lightly on the cheek, receiving a hardly perceptible twitch of his nose in response. She smiled, and then swirled around approaching Jack who watched her with that new smile on his face.

She merely reached to place her hands on his shoulders when he roughly pulled her toward him, crashing his lips against hers, kissing away whatever there was to forget, kissing back all the past, all their days together, and several images clashed while flashing across Elizabeth's mind, the exchange of the rings, climbing onto the crow's nest, signing of the marriage papers...

"I still have the ring!" Said Elizabeth happily when they broke apart to breathe.

Jack leaned his forehead against hers, holding her close, and looking down at her hand which she lifted so he could see the green ring on her finger. "I found it-" She trailed off with a sigh. "I found it... in your coat," she said with a grimace. "And your coat stayed in that house," she added with a pout.

"I got meself a new coat," replied Jack with a smug smile shrugging his shoulders to demonstrate the said piece of clothing, and then caught Elizabeth's hand in his, and put it to his lips. "I don't care 'bout coats, an' hats, an' rings anymore, 'Lizbeth," he brushed his lips over her knuckles before placing a soft kiss in the middle of the back of her hand.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in playful suspiciousness. "You're just saying it to avoid getting us proper wedding rings. But I do remember that you promised-"

He smiled roguishly, brushing his fingertips across her lips. "I do remember that, luv. An' I have every intention of keepin' this promise, as well as all the others."

"Pearls in China," she whispered against his lips, sliding her hand into his dreadlocks, her other hand pushing the coat off his shoulder. "Diamonds in Southern Africa," very slowly she pressed her lips to his, fireworks behind her eyelids falling over her mind like gold flakes of once lost and then retrieved treasure. "Rubies in Madagascar," she breathed, her lips still touching his, and she felt him grin, her eyes closed, his opening with difficulty. "Sapphires in Thailand, silk and cashmere in India."

"You remember every word, luv," he whispered watching her face, watching her lips trembling into a smile.

"Back then I thought that I didn't need all those things, but now I actually think that I want them all," she said with a hint of capriciousness in her voice, opening her eyes, and smiling at him sweetly.

"'Course ye do," he smiled, carefully stroking the side of her face. "An' much more than that. Everythin' from everywhere, everywhere we go," he leaned down, and kissed the corner of her mouth, and she slowly turned her head meeting his lips in a kiss.

"Let's set sail," she whispered, looking him deeply in the eyes.

There was one more reason why she wanted to go to Shipwreck Cove, but that required a bit of scheming on the side, and she was not sure yet whether it would work, so she would rather not mention that to Jack at all.

Luckily, he did not press the subject, and reluctantly but still, agreed to sail to Shipwreck Cove.

* * *

"Mister Gibbs!" Jack emerged from below the deck, heading for the helm."Did Mister Ragetti returned from his mission?" 

"Aye!" Gibbs smiled, approaching. "He did."

As Gibbs had suggested earlier, a beautiful little chest with no less beautiful valuables inside had been sent to Giselle as a thank you gift, for if it was not for her letter they would have never discovered where Elizabeth was. There was a similar chest to be given to Scarlett when they would stop in Tortuga.

"We're leavin', then," ordered Jack with a smile.

"Finally!" Gibbs grinned. "Tortuga?" He smiled knowingly, the prospect of the too long postponed wedding party being a very agreeable idea for the entire crew, especially after the search for Fountain of Youth which had not brought them immortality as everyone had hoped, followed by ten months of not particularly piratical searching activities. Several days or even weeks of celebration was definitely going to improve the general atmosphere.

Jack grimaced. "Nay. Our first course is going to be... Shipwreck Cove," he said with a slight frown. "King's orders," he added with a small smirk answering Gibbs' questioning look.

"I see," nodded Gibbs with a chuckle.

* * *

Elizabeth stood leaning over the cradle, watching Blaxton in his sleep, and hoping that he would sleep peacefully throughout the night. 

She waved her hand at Pintel and Ragetti in a hushing gesture, when two pirates began arguing while bringing to the cabin buckets of hot water and emptying them into the tub.

"Who'd think that, eh?" Whispered Pintel, glancing over his shoulder at Elizabeth who turned away from them, propping her chin on her hand, watching the baby. "The Captain an' the poppet, married, an' all. An' with the kid too."

Elizabeth bit her lower lip suppressing a smile, and wondering if Pintel really was not aware of how loud his 'whisper' was.

After several more visits the tub was full, and steaming, and Pintel and Ragetti left the cabin permanently.

Elizabeth gave the hot water a longing look, growing a bit impatient as to what was taking Jack so long. He was supposed to only give the orders to set sail, and then come back.

She looked around the cabin, searching for the parrot, but it seemed that the parrot decided to take a break from their company, and was temporarily gone as well.

Taking one more reassuring look at the sleeping baby, Elizabeth smirked to herself, and began unbuttoning her dress. She thought that with a bit of luck she could manage to take her bath, dress, and go to bed to fake sleep, so when Jack came back he would have a frustrating surprise in the form of his wife being fast asleep waiting for him.

She smiled, and after taking off her clothes stepped into the bathtub slowly sitting down, and enjoying the hot water washing over her, washing all those lonely, miserable days off her, and for a moment she had an impression that she went back in time, and it was again that day when Jack had proposed to her... in the very same bathtub, as a matter of fact. She laughed sliding deeper into the water, until only her head was above the water line. She lie motionlessly for a couple of minutes before taking a bar of soap, and fairly quickly washing herself, glancing over her shoulder at the door.

After washing, and rinsing her hair, Elizabeth rose to her feet, grabbed a towel, and stepped out of the tub, tiptoeing to the trunks which contained her clothes, and to her amazement stood exactly as she had left them almost a year ago. Jack had not removed them, or even moved them anywhere. She opened one of the trunks, searching for a dress that she had not worn yet, which was not a particularly difficult thing to find, since she had not got a chance to wear most of the dresses that Jack had bought for her in Tortuga.

Searching through the third trunk, she found a beautiful white dress which actually looked more like a nightgown, but since it was almost night anyway...

Elizabeth quickly put the lacy, light dress on, and taking a brush from the adjacent trunk began brushing her hair, when suddenly she heard hurried footsteps in the corridor.

With a gasp, she jumped to her feet, ran to the cradle to make sure that Blaxton was sleeping peacefully, smiled at the baby, and quickly ran to the side cabin not bothering to close the door. She heard the door to the main cabin open, and close just when she tossed herself over onto the bed, and laughed into the pillow. With a pounding heart, she slightly lifted her head, and listened. She heard footsteps, and quickly recognized Jack's way of walking, confirmed by his voice.

"Lizzie?"

She smiled, and pressed her cheek against the pillow, brushing loose strands of her still wet hair over her face to enable herself to surreptitiously open her eyes once in while. She forgot to cover herself with a blanket, but it was too late to fix that. Perhaps it was even better. She smirked to herself, and carefully pulled the dress a little bit, uncovering her legs up to above her knees.

"Luv?"

Elizabeth held her breath, out of the corner of her eye seeing Jack's dark silhouette in the doorway. And she used all her willpower not to laugh at a loud half-sigh, half-groan that escaped his lips.

Jack stared at the sight before him with mixed feelings, elated by seeing her sleeping so gracefully and peacefully in their bed after all those months during which he had thought that he had lost her forever. But he was also sad (to say the least) that she was asleep.

Taking his coat, and his hat off, he sat on the edge of the bed, and leaned over her to brush loose strands of her soppy hair away from her face.

Elizabeth shifted slightly, a sleepy frown appearing on her face. Jack looked at her for a moment, stroking her hair, and the side of her face, gradually narrowing his eyes, a trace of a mischievous smile flickering across his lips.

Leaning down even more he brushed his lips over Elizabeth's ear. "Ye know, Lizzie, next time ye'll be pretendin' to be asleep, ye have to remember not to tremble every time I touch ye," he whispered into her ear, lightly drawing his fingernails across her cheek.

Elizabeth smiled, and swiftly rolled from her side onto her back. "Where were you?" She asked, opening her eyes, and moving her arms to cross them over her chest, but before she did that Jack caught her hands, and pinned them to the bed on either side of her head.

"Luv, I am the Captain of this ship, an' bein' a Captain-"

Elizabeth lifted her head, kissed him briefly on the lips, and fell back onto the pillows with a smile. "You owe me a honeymoon, _Captain _Sparrow," she said in a low voice, watching his face with that endearing fascination that he had missed so much.

Jack grinned down at her. "Aye, that I do," he inched his lips to hers, but then drew back before kissing her. "But I believe that there is a bath waitin' for me," he let go of her hands, and began standing up to leave. "So if ye excu-"

Elizabeth jolted forward, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him over her onto the bed. "You were late, so you missed your bath," she whispered resolutely, slipping her hands under his shirt, and pulling it upwards. "I won't spend another hour waiting for you," she smiled, and tossed his shirt to the side. "Not to mention that the water is already cold," she slowly ran her hands over his chest, her eyelids feeling so heavy that she could hardly keep her eyes open.

"At least you enjoyed your bath, luv, I hope," he leaned down placing open-mouthed kisses on her neck, entangling one of his hands in her hair, his other hand sliding under her dress, and gliding over her thigh.

"I could have enjoyed it... more," she whispered, closing her eyes, and wrapping her arms around him, slowly raked her nails across his back. "If my lawfully wedded husband was not missing."

He tilted his head backwards to look at her, then leaned down, and slanted his mouth across hers, and she tightened her embrace around him, eagerly falling into the kiss without holding back anything, any feeling, any emotion. They kissed, removing the rest of their clothes, and laughing while throwing them into all possible directions.

"God an' the sea know how I missed ye," he whispered, scooping her in his arms, burying his face into her hair, his hands retrieving the chart of her body, learning anew all the memories. "'Lizbeth..." His lips indecisively wandering between her lips, her neck, her breasts. "'Lizbeth..."

She opened her eyes, and smiled faintly, about to answer, but his name was brushed off her lips by her gasp, when he smiled at her warmly, with a glint of roguishness in his eyes, leaning down, and covering her mouth with his, the world rocking, and spinning.

"I love you," she whispered, clinging to him, his lips finding her ear, and she could feel him smile against her skin.

"I know," he whispered huskily.

Elizabeth protested incoherently, and he smiled more. "Jack."

"Say it again," he breathed into her ear after a pause.

"I love you," she whispered, sliding her open palms over his shoulders, when he buried his face in the crook of her neck, in her hair, as if he could not get close enough to her. "I love you," she repeated, even though he did not ask again. "I love you," she gasped, her thoughts swirling in her mind, soaked in colours, in sounds, the sea crashing against her imagination, his hands holding her on the surface of the ocean of her heart, his lips plotting courses across her skin, brushing over her lips, and she cupped his face in her hands deepening the kiss, letting go of the past, of everything but him, the one memory that she could not afford losing, not anymore. "I love you..."

"I love you, 'Lizbeth," he whispered fervently against her lips, breaking the kiss for a fraction of a second, but before she opened her eyes to meet his gaze he kissed her again with desperation that reminded her of their first kiss, that first kiss in Tortuga.

"I remember that," she said in a barely audible whisper, smiling against his smile, thinking of that kiss, of the first time he had said those words to her, of the days and nights with him, and without him, of his every word, every flame sparkling in his eyes, every gesture, and of the time when he had been but a literary character from the pages of the books full of adventures that were beyond her reach. "I remembered you... even when I didn't... "

Laboriously, she opened her eyes to two dark, black, blazing orbs looking down at her. Jack smiled, his hand sliding up her arm, to cup the side of her face. "I know," he whispered smugly. "I knew. That's why... I didn't bother tellin' ye the truth... in the first place... luv" his smile turned mischievous, and he captured her lips in a long, fierce kiss.

She moaned, the sound muffled by the kiss, by his lips still confessing what could not be told, persuading, apologizing; loving.

"But you did," she breathed when his lips left hers trailing kisses down her chest. "You did," she repeated inaudibly, closing her eyes, and thawing into his touch, his voice, his eyes watching her, watching over her now, always, forever. Even when it was dark, and his eyes were closed. Although it could never be really dark as long as she could hear his breath on her skin.

And she was right when she once had found his breathing fascinating. Only it had taken her some time to realize that it was not exactly the breathing that was fascinating. It was his closeness, his presence, and the way in which he whispered her name at the end of the rainbow...

* * *

Elizabeth woke up to the light, tingling sensation on her shoulder. She stirred, and smiled without opening her eyes. 

"You can keep doing that," she whispered drowsily, snuggling her face into the pillow.

"I'm sorry, luv. Didn't mean to wake ye," answered Jack in a low voice trailing soft kisses along her arm, and on her shoulder, draping his arm over her waist, and pulling her closer to him, pressing her back against his chest. "Did ye sleep well?" He asked smilingly, sluggishly combing his fingers through her hair.

"Is it morning already?" Asked Elizabeth with a sigh.

"No," Jack glanced at the dark window. "It's still before dawn," he pushed her hair aside, nuzzling her neck.

Elizabeth giggled. "So why are you waking me up?" She asked, slightly tilting her head backwards.

"I told ye I had no intention of wakin' ye up, luv," grinned Jack, rolling her onto her back to look at her face.

"Does it mean I can continue to sleep?" Asked Elizabeth teasingly, keeping her eyes closed.

Jack brought his hand to her face, delicately tracing chaotic patterns with his fingertips. "Actually, you might want to be awake for that, Lizziebeth" he murmured, brushing his lips against hers, watching her face.

She smiled, but her eyelids barely trembled. "For what?" She asked sleepily, reaching for him blindly, and placing her hands on his shoulders. When he did not answer, she repeated. "For wha-" Elizabeth's eyes snapped open for a second, and then shut again.

"Aye," whispered Jack with a chuckle. "That'd be it, luv," he breathed, catching her lips in between his, his hands gliding down her body, and she shivered at the cold sensation of his rings brushing against her skin, still warm from sleep.

"I feel like it never happened..." said Elizabeth, kissing the side of his face when he leaned down to nuzzle her neck, nibbling on the skin. "Like we've never been apart."

He planted open-mouthed kisses along her collar bones, slowly lifting his head to look at her. "That's 'cause we're very efficient in makin' up for the lost time," he replied in a husky whisper.

Elizabeth smiled, tilting her head backwards, burying it into the soft pillow. She wanted to say something yet, but found it increasingly hard to even breathe, not to mention think, or talk, so she just half-consciously whispered 'aye' causing her husband to grin, and lost herself in the shimmering semi-silence of their closeness.

* * *

"You can sleep, luv. I promise I won't wake you up again," whispered Jack with a lop-sided smile, holding Elizabeth in a tight embrace, looking into her eyes intensely, and sifting her hair through his fingers. 

Elizabeth laughed under her breath, snuggling closer to him, her head resting on his shoulder. "No, I'm not going to believe that again," she smirked, looking at him with a glimpse of amusement in her eyes. "I fell asleep three times already, and three times I happened to be viciously awoken-"

"Viciously!?" Jack's eyes widened in mock-indignation. "Darlin'," he tangled his fingers in her hair, when she gave him a bright, dreamy smile. "I haven't even started bein' vicious with ye yet," he whispered, gently raking his nails down her back. Elizabeth bit her lower lip gazing into his dark, glimmering eyes greedily.

"Maybe you should start right now," she suggested breathlessly in a quiet voice, tracing the contour of his lips with her fingertips, her eyes wandering all over his face, and his chest, her eyes once again sweeping over the three bullet holes.

His eyes brightened even more, and he inched his face to hers, his lips stretching into a roguish smile. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. "Are you certain?" He asked smilingly.

Elizabeth put her hand over his, pressing it closer to her face. "Jack..."

"Ah," he flashed her another smile, kissing her lips. "Afraid of yer very own husband, luv?"

Elizabeth smiled, gently breaking the kiss, and sliding her hand onto his chest. "Jack...," she took a deep breath, her facial expression turning serious. "Could you... tell me what happened?" She asked cautiously, looking at him with a small, anxious smile.

Jack swept her into his arms with a sigh, and leaned his head against her shoulder. Elizabeth locked her arms around him.

"Jack..." she said softly, running her fingers through his dreadlocks. Jack groaned, and Elizabeth stifled a chuckle.

They lie for a longer while in silence, and Elizabeth closed her eyes, beginning to doubt that he would tell her anything after all. But then after some time he shifted slightly, cleared his throat, and whispered with a hint of crankiness in his voice:

"It was...," he trailed off with a sigh. Elizabeth held her breath. "Gibbs-" he started again.

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open. "Gibbs shot you?!" She almost shouted, cupping his face in her hands, and lifting it from her shoulder to look him in the eyes.

Jack winced. "No, not exactly," he wrinkled his forehead, frowning slightly. "Do we really need to talk 'bout it right-"

"Yes, we do," stated Elizabeth decidedly. Jack sighed, shooting her an unhappy look. Elizabeth smiled. "Let's have it," she said, sliding down, so that his face were directly above hers.

Jack looked down at her, smiling faintly at how beautiful she looked. "You look beaut-" he started, attempting to kiss her, but Elizabeth put her thumb across her lips.

"Captain Sparrow, do not change the subject of this conversation," she said in a threatening tone, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

"I'm just-"

"Jack!" she cut him off, looking at him pointedly.

Jack rolled his eyes with a groan. "If it was not for Gibbs that hole would be somewhere else," he said quickly, turning his head right, and left, to kiss each of her hands that were still cupping his face.

"And where would it be?" Asked Elizabeth in a low voice, knitting her eyebrows.

Jack glanced at the ceiling. "Somewhere there," he said with a shrug.

Elizabeth followed his gaze, and looked at the ceiling in confusion. "There?" She asked doubtfully, shifting her eyes between Jack, and the ceiling.

Jack sighed, apparently slowly giving up on the idea that he may succeed in evading the necessity to tell Elizabeth what had really happened.

He raised his hand, and pointed to his head in a careless gesture. "There."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in utter dismay. "What?" She breathed, paling.

Jack shook his head dismissively. "Lizzie, it's alright. It's-"

"Alright?!" She exclaimed staring up at him in disbelief. "Alright?! You could have- you-" she shook her head, looking so aghast, that Jack smiled faintly, tenderly drawing his hand across her face.

"Lizzie..." he leaned down, trying to kiss her once again, but she held his head in place, looking him straight in the eyes, and eventually asking the very question that he hoped that she would not ask:

"Who shot you?"

Jack looked at her for a moment in silence, wondering if she would believe the popular version spread by Gibbs in Shipwreck Cove that he had got shot in a battle at the Ghost Sea...

"Jack," she said in a sharp voice. "Who shot you?"

...Probably not.

He narrowed his eyes, and huffed in exasperation. "Nobody," he said at last with a small pout.

Elizabeth blinked, puzzled. "What do you mea-" she started, but then froze, stopping in mid-sentence. She looked at him wide-eyed, feeling cold shivers running up her spine. "Jack-" she whispered in a quivering voice.

"I thought that you were gone, Lizzie," he said lowly, brushing the back of his hand over her mouth. "Thought you were dead. There was no reason to live on," he leaned down, and kissed her ardently, before she managed to say anything. "Hush, luv," he drew back, cupping her face in his hands, and shaking his head in mockingly angry disapproval at the sight of the tears flowing sideways from her eyes.

"How could you ever-" she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck, unconsciously digging her nails in his back.

"Shh, Lizzie, it's over. Let's leave it all behind, alright?" He smiled, wiping the tears away from her face with his fingertips.

"How can I-"

"That's an order," interrupted her Jack with a sly smile.

Elizabeth smiled brokenly. "Oh, Jack..." She shook her head, gasped, and then roughly pulled him into a kiss, tightening her embrace around him until her arms hurt.

They kissed feverishly, until neither of them could breathe or think, until the world fell apart leaving them in the iridescent darkness-

They jolted upright almost simultaneously.

"What was that?" Asked Elizabeth, looking at Jack in bewilderment.

"I don't-"

They both cringed, when another cannon was heard, followed closely by shouting and screaming of the crew.


	86. Chapter 86

A/N: _**Thank you so much for all the great reviews!**_

The story will have 88 chapters, so we have only 3 chapters till the end:)

Disclaimer: PotC belong to Disney.

**Chapter 86**

Quickly locating their clothes, Jack and Elizabeth jumped off the bed, got dressed, and ran to the main cabin where the first thing Elizabeth did was take Blaxton, who had woken up and begun crying because of the noise, into her arms.

Jack gently spun her around. "Lizzie, stay here," he said in an almost threatening tone of voice, looking at her intensely, but despite what he had expected, she did not argue.

She nodded, and kissed him. "Be careful," she said with a small smile.

Jack smiled, kissed her, and turned around, but Elizabeth caught his sleeve, and pulled him back toward her. "Be very careful," she whispered, and they kissed again.

"Luv, I'm-"

"Be very, very careful," she cut him off, tugging on his shirt.

"Lizzie," Jack cupped her face in his hands. "I have no intention of dying at the moment," and with that, a smug smile, and a kiss decidedly longer than it should have been in such circumstances, he quickly left the Captain's Quarters.

* * *

It was still dark outside, so after emerging from below the deck, Jack was not able to judge the situation immediately. It struck him that shouting and screaming subsided a moment before he was able to take a good look around. 

First thing that he noticed was the silhouette of a ship on the right hand side from the _Black Pearl_. The ship seemed familiar.

"Jack!" Gibbs approached him quickly.

"Mister Gibbs! What's in the bloody hell is goin' on?" Bellowed Jack, looking around, and wondering why there was no fighting going on, even though he had spotted at least several unfamiliar faces.

Gibbs opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by another voice.

"No need for gettin' all agitated, Jackie."

Gibbs stifled a chuckle at the horrified expression that appeared on Jack's face. Slowly turning around, Jack came face to face with his father.

"Any particular reason for firin' cannons on me ship?" He asked cautiously, narrowing his eyes in an artificial half-smile.

Teague smiled slightly. "Aye, nay," he waved his hand dismissively. "A tad bit of misunderstandin', as it were. Rumors were, that Barbossa was after the _Pearl_, saw 'im in the passin', an' figured we might follow t' see...," he lingered at the last syllable, stopping in mid-sentence at the look of suppressed annoyance on Jack's face.

Jack did not say anything, although the fact that everybody seemed to _assume_ that if Barbossa had been after the _Black Pearl_ he must have succeeded in stealing it from him _again _was rather unnerving.

"Spotted the _Pearl_, an' started firin' just in case it was 'im," added Teague, his eyes lightening with faint amusement. "But I see ye got it back-"

"Thank ye very much for yer kind concern, although I did not have to get 'er back, 'cause I did not lose 'er in the first place," interrupted him Jack rather stiffly, not considering those few hours that Barbossa had spent on board a detail worth mentioning.

"Good for ye, Jackie," smiled Teague, causing Gibbs to stifle another chuckle, but not as successfully as before, because Jack glanced over his shoulder shooting him a deadly glare.

Gibbs smiled apologetically, and excused himself, swiftly walking away.

"So where are ye headed?" Asked Teague, when Gibbs was gone.

Jack wrinkled his forehead, and sighed inaudibly. "To Shipwreck Cove," he said at last in a hollow tone of voice. Teague slightly narrowed his eyes. Jack glanced around the deck before returning his gaze to his father. "I found Lizzie. She's alive." He said, slightly shuffling his feet, a little embarrassed by the involuntary quiver in his voice.

Teague's lips stretched into a thoughtful smile. "Glad t' hear that," he said after a pause in a low, serious voice, looking at Jack intently for a moment.

A glimpse of sincere contentment in his father's eyes, a glimpse of compassion related to the past, to the time when she was gone made Jack feel uneasy.

"That's why we're goin' to Shipwreck Cove," he continued in order to break the uncomfortable silence. "Liz-We wanted ye t' meet somebody..."

* * *

Elizabeth sat on the bed with Blaxton in her arms. The baby fell asleep fairly quickly, because after those two cannons that she and Jack had heard, there was no more loud noises, not even clinging and clashing of swords which made Elizabeth wonder what was going on on the deck. Did the _Black Pearl_'s crew succeeded in defending the ship so swiftly? She dreaded to think that it might have been the other way around... 

Staring with apprehension at the door that she had locked, after several minutes of listening for any sounds in complete silence, she heard the Captain's Quarters' door open, and somebody walking in.

"Lizzie!"

Elizabeth sighed, and smiled. "Jack, I'm here!" She called, rising to her feet, walking to the door, and opening it swiftly.

"Ye're alright, luv?" Smiled Jack, coming up to her, and cupping her face in his hands.

"Me?!" Elizabeth laughed. "What's happening outside?"

Jack rolled his eyes. "Ye'd be delighted, luv" he said with a small, sarcastic smile. Elizabeth smiled confusedly. "Captain Teague Sparrow had planned a heroic rescue of the _Pearl_ from late Captain Barbossa's foul hands, an' that's why they fired on us, thinkin' that he was in the possession of the ship at the moment."

"You're father is here?" Asked Elizabeth, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Aye," nodded Jack, twitching his nose, and gently, but firmly motioning Elizabeth toward the cradle. "Did the wee one fall asleep?" He asked, looking over at the baby, and then back at her, suddenly noticing that the white, lacy dress that she had on was a little transparent...

"Yes," Elizabeth smiled, and lowered Blaxton into the cradle. "He-"

"That's good. Now, we have to get ye dressed, luv," broke in Jack, pulling Elizabeth toward the trunks.

"Dressed?" Elizabeth gave him a surprised look, smiling inwardly at the memory when he had said more or less the same thing before getting all those clothes for her in Tortuga. "Jack, I am-"

"Maybe this?" Asked Jack pulling out a thick, dark blue dress from one of the trunks.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow. "Are we going to sail across the frozen ocean?" She asked, looking at him with a glimpse of amusement flickering in her eyes. "Because I think that this dress would be too warm even for that kind of journey."

Jack rolled his eyes, tossing the dress away, and taking out another one, a beautiful, black dress, even thicker than the dark blue one.

"Jack," Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. "What is wrong with my appearance?"

Jack widened his eyes at her. "Nothing's wrong with yer appearance, luv. But ye can wear it, can't ye?" He proposed hopefully, extending his hands with the black dress to her. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes at the heavy dress. "An' tie yer hair...," added Jack in a low tone of voice.

Elizabeth darted her eyes to him. "Beg pardon?!" Jack flinched slightly. "What's wrong with my hair?!" She put her hands to her hair, straightening her golden brown locks, and combing through her long hair with her fingers.

"Nothing, nothing's wrong with yer hair, Lizzie," said Jack with a grimace. "That's why-"

"You think I don't look good enough to meet your father?" Interrupted him Elizabeth, suddenly struck by the idea.

"What?" Jack blinked, his eyes widening in astonishment. "No, no, Lizzie, that's not it, that's _definitely _not it, it's actually... exactly the opposite," he said at last, narrowing his eyes in slight irritation that he had to explain that to her.

Elizabeth gave him a questioning look.

Jack sighed, and rolled his eyes. "I don't want anybody leering at me wife, alright?" He said with a small, annoyed pout.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and she stared at Jack taken aback by his explanation. "You're not serious," she said disbelievingly after a moment of silence, smiling at him with amused uncertainty.

Jack knitted his eyebrows, looking at her with childish grimness. Elizabeth held his gaze for a moment, trying to keep herself from laughing, and then threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him passionately on the mouth.

"I highly doubt your father will _leer _at his son's wife _and_ his grandson's mother, really, Jack, don't be absurd," Elizabeth giggled, cupped his face in her hands, and trailed soft kisses along his lips, from one corner of his mouth to the other.

Jack looked at her, seemingly unconvinced. Then, after a longer while of just looking into each other's eyes, he dropped the dress to the floor, and pulled her into an embrace, crashing his lips against hers, smiling when she tried to take control over the kiss, and not letting her, trapping her lips in between his, kissing her fiercely, brashly, almost aggressively, but she only moaned quietly into his mouth, and pressed herself closer to him in response, and he tighten his embrace around her, one arm wrapped firmly around her waist, his other hand sliding into her hair, and pushing her head closer to his.

Lost in the kiss, and in each other, they did not hear a knock on the door, neither did they hear the door being opened, and somebody walking in.

They drew apart for a second long enough to catch their breaths, and fell into a long, intoxicating kiss once again. They kissed, gradually forgetting that they needed air, forgetting that they needed anything apart from each other...

And they would have probably been kissing for a long time yet, if it was not for a calm, clear voice that suddenly resounded in the cabin:

"So this is my grandson, aye?"

They broke the kiss, their eyes snapping open, and for a second they just stared at each other with wide eyes, slowly coming back from above the horizon, and into the reality. Elizabeth looked over Jack's shoulder, while Jack turned around abruptly, they both fixing their gazes on Teague who stood next to the cradle, slightly leaning over it, and looking at the sleeping baby with a faint, warm smile on his face.

Elizabeth snuggled her face into Jack's dreadlocks, hiding behind him, and smiling embarrassedly. Jack twitched his nose, squinting slightly.

"He was supposed to wait in the galley," mumbled Jack under his breath, receiving a hushing tap on the shoulder from Elizabeth. "Aye," he said out loud, rather stiffly, feeling Elizabeth chuckling into his hair.

"Aye," she confirmed peering from behind Jack, and after a moment of consideration she took Jack's hand in hers, and pulled him towards the cradle.

Jack shot an unhappy glance at the black dress, but let himself to be dragged away from it, looking at Elizabeth with a small pout which she noticed out of the corner of her eye, squeezing Jack's hand in response, and suppressing a giggle.

"He looks like ye, Jackie," said Teague giving the baby's parents a smile.

Elizabeth smiled.

"It's not like ye remem-", started Jack drily, but Elizabeth lightly dug her nails into the back of his hand, cutting him off.

"Yes, he does, doesn't he?" She said conversationally.

Jack fought the inclination to roll his eyes.

"I'm sure it'll pass, nothin' t' worry 'bout just yet," added Teague with seriousness in his voice, and humour in his eyes.

"Oh, I hope it won't," said Elizabeth with a smile, moving in front of Jack to lean slightly over the edge of the cradle to look at Blaxton, and Jack took this opportunity to wrap his arms around her waist, pulling her back against his chest. "I want him to be just like his father."

Teague raised his eyebrows in mock disbelief, smiling at Elizabeth, and glancing at Jack who stared at the cradle, trying to get rid of the frown that had appeared on his face, and would not go away.

"Ye may want t' reconsider that, sweetie," observed Teague good-humouredly, shooting Elizabeth a look that, to her surprise, could be indeed considered a leer.

"It's _Your Majesty_, actually," muttered Jack matter-of-factly, glancing at his father.

Elizabeth stifled a chuckle, and was about to say that they were a family now, and she did not mind _not _being called any formal titles by her _father-in-law_ when Teague spoke:

"No, I don't think it's _mine_," he said slowly, with a ghost of a smile hovering over his lips. "But if ye'd ever get tired of 'im, dove, but wanted t' keep the name...," he winked at Elizabeth whose eyes widened a bit at that. "I'll see ye in the galley," he said giving them both a small salute, and then swaggered away from the cradle, and out of the cabin.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Jack grabbed a random book from the table, and threw it at the door.

"Jack!" Elizabeth pulled him toward her. "What are you doing?" She asked, laughing, and placing her hands on his shoulders. "He was joking! I can't believe it upsets you, seeing that you have exactly the same kind of sense of humour-"

"What?!" exclaimed Jack in a high-pitched tone of voice. "I do not-"

"Yes, you do. How about that _marr-i-age _proposal?" She smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Jack stared at her in shock. "I wasn't joking, 'Lizbeth! If ye would've agreed, we would've been married by the time we reached Isla Cruces," he added in a low voice, averting his eyes.

Elizabeth blinked. "You would really... marry me then?" She asked incredulously, cupping his face in her hands, and forcing him to look at her.

He looked at her, a flicker of a familiar mischief flashing in his eyes. "I wouldn't have had much choice if you said 'yes', luv, now, would I?" he smirked, locking her in an embrace.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in mock-indignation, laughed, and pressed her lips to his. He kissed her tenderly, and drew back.

"Just be careful around him, he's not as harmless as he seems," he said with a small smile, caressing her face with his thumbs.

"What happened between you two, Jack?" She asked, resting her forehead against his, her eyelashes brushing against his when she blinked.

Jack snorted thoughtfully. "Not much," he replied after a pause. "First time I met him I was twelve. He suddenly remembered 'bout me mum, came to visit...," Jack shrugged. "Don't know if he even knew 'bout me till then. It was hard to judge from his behaviour. He took me on his ship, an' I went 'cause my mother thought it was a good idea, gettin' t' know 'im, an all. They made it up between them, somehow..." he sighed, and frowned. "Didn't like it too much on his ship, in one of the ports we made I got on a different ship, didn't see him for two years. Then I came back to Shipwreck Cove to see my mother...," he stopped, and closed his eyes for a moment. "But she wasn't there, anymore," he exhaled slowly. "She wasn't anywhere anymore. So," he slightly cleared his throat, and Elizabeth could feel his forehead wrinkling against hers under the bandanna. She cupped his face in her hands, he opened his eyes, and kissed her softly. "So I was going here and there, meeting him in the passing...," his mouth twitched, and he shrugged, and Elizabeth could sense that there was some more things to tell, but she thought that he had told her more than enough already, considering that it was the very first time he had ever told her anything about his true past, and therefore she should not press any further confessions at the moment. Perhaps one day he would tell her everything.

She smiled, and kissed him, and he cupped her face in his hands, and kissed her eyelids. She smiled, the gesture always reminding her of Tortuga, and that first, stormy kiss.

"I can do that too," she smirked, stepped on her tiptoes, and kissed his eyelids in return. When she drew back, Jack looked at her, suspiciously amused. "What?" Elizabeth looked at him questioningly.

Jack grinned. "Nothing," he said too cheerfully to sound sincere, and kissed her on the cheek. "Apart from the fact that I never knew that kohl looks better on yer lips than on me eyes."

Elizabeth blinked, and then narrowed her eyes in mock irritation. "Oh really," she smiled sweetly, grabbing him by the shoulders, and pulling him into a passionate kiss.

"Ought to get more kohl," he whispered against her lips, smiling.

To his bafflement, Elizabeth shook her head. "Oh, no. Another excuse, aye?" She put her finger across his lips before he had a chance to speak. "First, we have to get our wedding rings, then all the diamonds, and everything else for me, and only after that you can start thinking about getting anything for yourself. Savvy?"

Jack smiled, and took her hand in his. "Only if I'll receive some kind of compensation..." He kissed her palm, and the inside of her wrist.

Elizabeth grinned, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Anytime, Captain Sparrow" she whispered looking dreamily into his eyes.

"Ye mean... _all_ the time, luv" he whispered back, languorously pressing his lips to hers.

"Jack..."

He broke the kiss, and just grinned with his lips touching hers. "Ye've no idea how I missed-"

"Oh, I do," Elizabeth cut him off, trailing soft kisses around his lips. "I do," she whispered pensively, drawing her hand across his face, running her fingertips over his cheekbones, gliding the back of her hand along the side of his face. "I missed knowing that you are," she smiled sadly, brushing her lips against his.

"Lizzie," he hugged her close, and kissed her. "My Lizzie, my beautiful Lizzie-wife."

Elizabeth giggled, and opened her eyes, leaning her forehead against his. "My... pirate husband," she retorted with a smile.

Jack widened his eyes at her. "Whatever happened to 'beautiful'," he murmured with a pout.

Elizabeth laughed, and cupped his face in her hands. "Oh Jack. Do you know what was your life's greatest mistake?" She asked between soft kisses.

He wanted to think of something playful to say, but eventually said the first thing that came to his mind:

"Letting you go. Always. Ever."

She smiled faintly, shaking her head. "No," she whispered. "After you rescued me for the first time, you should've kidnapped me _immediately_," she stressed the word with a sweet smile, sprinkling feathery light kisses all over his face. Jack smiled, and leaned toward her. "There," said Elizabeth happily, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

Jack stilled his movements. "There what?" He asked suspiciously.

Elizabeth giggled. "Nothing," she chirped with a smile. "You can go to the galley," she said, kissing him one more time, before slipping out of his embrace, and heading for the side cabin. "I'll go make myself look absolutely hideous, and then I'll take Blaxton and come too," she said smilingly, shutting the door behind her. Then, after a moment, she opened the door, held a small mirror before her, waving it in the air for Jack to see, and putting it on the nearby cabinet. "And you do remember that we have to talk to Gibbs, right?" She smiled, and quickly closed the door again.

Jack sighed, glanced at Blaxton, and sadly shrugged his shoulders, not receiving any response from the sleeping baby. He walked to the cabinet, disinterestedly took the mirror in his hand, and...

He narrowed his eyes, and shook his head with a smile, looking at the reflection of his kohl-stained face in the mirror.

"The revenge will be cruel!" He called, looking for some kind of rag to clean his face, and smiling at Elizabeth's muffled laughter coming from the other side of the door.

* * *

Teague sat at the table in the galley, across from Gibbs, who had poured rum for both of them, as they were waiting for Jack and Elizabeth. 

Gibbs had told Teague a short history of their search for Elizabeth, after Bill Turner had told them that she was alive. He told him about the places that he had visited while captaining the _Empress_, finally he had told him how they had come across the news where Elizabeth was, how they had found her and the baby, and how they at last defeated Barbossa.

Teague listened to him in silence, an almost unnoticeable smile flickering across his face from time to time.

"I can hardly believe it's over," concluded Gibbs, shaking his head with a smile.

"An' what is over, Mister Gibbs?" Asked Jack, sauntering into the galley with a broad smile.

"I was just tellin'...", he stopped in mid-sentence, struck by a question. "Jack, how exactly did Barbossa die?" He asked, wrinkling his forehead, suddenly remembering that Barbossa had neither been shot to death, not had any other visible injuries.

Teague tilted his head to the side, glancing at Jack from above his mug of rum.

Jack twitched his nose, slumping into a chair at the table. "Well," he started, grabbing a bottle of rum for himself. "He... died," he gave Gibbs a small, cheerful smile.

"Yes," smiled Gibbs. "But how?" He inquired cautiously.

Jack uncorked his rum bottle, and looked at the cork interestedly. "He... stopped livin', Mister Gibbs. This is how it is. People stop livin', an' that's how ye know they're dead," he stated resolutely, throwing the cork behind him.

Perhaps he would even tell Gibbs what had really happened, if it was not for the presence of Teague, whom he had no intention of informing all of a sudden of everything that was happening in his life, like his son becoming immortal, for instance.

Gibbs rubbed his forehead, pondering Jack's answer for a moment, but not finding it particularly informative. But before he decided to ask his question once again, Teague broke into the conversation:

"Is my lovely daughter-in-law goin' to join us?"

After a brief struggle, and ultimate glorious defeat of the idea of throwing the bottle that he held in his hand at a certain person, Jack replied as happily as he could with his teeth clenched:

"Aye. In a mom-"

The door opened, and Elizabeth walked in, almost causing Jack to drop his rum bottle.

_So much for lookin' absolutely hideous_, he thought with a hint of annoyance in his otherwise absolute amazement at Elizabeth's appearance.

Elizabeth walked over to the table with sleeping Blaxton in her arms, and a black, silk, white lace-rimmed dress fanning around her. She sat down next to Jack, who squinted at her. She squinted back, trying not to smile. The dress was black, just as he wanted (even though it was not exactly the one that he had had in mind), and her hair was tied, just as he wanted (accidentally leaving her shoulders half-bare, because of the design of the dress.)

"Ye look... hideously beautiful, luv," said Jack looking at her pointedly.

"Oh, thank you," answered Elizabeth with a hint of haughtiness in her voice, but then looked him straight in the eyes, and he managed to catch a glimpse of mischief in them, a moment before she leaned toward him, and kissed him fully on the mouth.

Gibbs chuckled, receiving a meaningful look from Jack. "Mister Gibbs," said Jack, reluctantly shifting his eyes from Elizabeth to Gibbs.

Gibbs cleared his throat, slightly straightening up. "Aye!"

"We have... three questions for ye," said Jack in a very serious, almost stern tone of voice, looking at Gibbs piercingly.

Elizabeth looked at Gibbs as well, trying to keep from smiling.

Gibbs blinked, not really knowing whether he liked the sound of it or not. "Aye," he repeated with less certainty in his voice.

"Captain Sparrow here, meaning me wife," started Jack solemnly, not resisting an almost accidental glance at Teague, who was sitting back in his chair, watching the scene in silence, with a trace of a smile hovering over his lips, "has one question, then Captain Sparrow, meaning me, has one question as well, and then we both have... a question," concluded Jack with a very serious expression on his face.

"Aye," whispered Gibbs, putting away his mug of rum, too anxious to even drink at the moment.

"Darlin'," Jack graciously waved his hand for Elizabeth to speak.

"Yes," she smiled briefly, quickly coming back to a _very_ serious facial expression. "I would like to know why the crew refuses to talk to me, and why they pretend not to have any idea who I am." Gibbs blinked. "Mister Marty suggested that I should speak to you, about that," she added in a strictly matter-of-fact tone of voice.

The eyes of Elizabeth, Jack, and Teague rested on Gibbs, who seemed more than confused by the question. He stared at Elizabeth in puzzlement, when all of a sudden the realization dawned on him.

"Oh, I know why!" He exclaimed, running his hand across his forehead, and chuckling under his breath. With a smile, he quickly explained his unfortunate story that he had told the crew right before they took Elizabeth on board in Tortuga; the story which was meant to keep the crew from telling Elizabeth that they knew her.

"Oh," acknowledged Elizabeth with an amused smile. "I guess we have to take it back somehow."

"Aye," nodded Gibbs. "I will clear that up," he smiled.

"Very good," cut in Jack. "Now my question." Gibbs wrinkled his forehead, his smile slightly faltering. "Mister Gibbs, what do you know about..." Jack narrowed his eyes, "the Caspian Sea," he asked matter-of-factly, with a trace of something similar to a threat in his voice.

Gibbs' eyes widened. "What do I know 'bout Caspian Sea," he repeated in a slightly hollow, thoughtful voice, trying to see the connection between the questions, but finding none, as well as not really knowing what to answer to the second question. "Well," he cleared his throat, and squinted in concentration. "The Caspian Sea is... the sea-"

"Very good," Jack cut him off with a broad smile, causing Gibbs to blink at least several times, and Elizabeth to giggle, even though she had tried very hard not to. Gibbs shifted his eyes between Jack and Elizabeth in bafflement. "Third question!" Exclaimed Jack, and along with Elizabeth he rose to his feet, and walked over to Gibbs, who quickly staggered to his feet as well, not really knowing what to expect. "Mister Ragetti!" Jack opened the door to the galley, and called the tall pirate, who walked inside somewhat hesitantly.

Gibbs rubbed his forehead, getting nervous, an absurd thought crossing his mind that Ragetti was going to overtake his first mate position, while he was going to be...?... He was really not sure what to think.

"Mister Gibbs," started Jack in a solemn tone of voice, producing a small book seemingly out of nowhere, and reading (or at least pretending to read) from it. "D' ye honestly promise, in the presence of the present here the present Pirate King," he glanced at Elizabeth, who stood next to him, smiling brightly. "T' be an honestly dishonest Pirate, a generally just, and only sometimes justly unjust Captain, an obligingly disobliging Lord, an' an unlawfully lawful member of the Brethren Court?" Asked Jack, looking at Gibbs expectantly.

Gibbs stared at them with his mouth agape, and his eyes wide open. Elizabeth gave him a small, encouraging nod, and even Blaxton who suddenly woke up with a yawn, tilted his head to the side, and looked at Gibbs with sleepy eyes.

"I do," said Gibbs, not very consciously, but in a fairly loud voice.

Jack smiled. "I hereby declare-" Elizabeth elbowed Jack, her smiling eyes fixed on Gibbs who kept looking at them with the most dumbfounded expression on his face. "Oh, yes," Jack cleared his throat. "By the power invested in me by Captain Elizabeth Sparrow the Pirate King of the Brethren Court," he corrected himself, shooting Elizabeth a grin,"I hereby declare ye, Joshamee Gibbs a Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea." Jack looked at Ragetti who, with a rather sad expression on his face, took out his eye, and handed it to Jack. "Take this..." Jack extended his hand, and grimaced slightly, "eye, as a token of our trust an' respect. May fair weather be with ye."

Gibbs stared at the eye, blinking.

"I can take it back," offered Ragetti in a shy voice. "It's not like it's the real Piece of Eight... The one that was Captain Barbossa's Piece of Eight actually melted when-"

"Mister Gibbs," repeated Jack, ignoring Ragetti.

"Aye," gasped Gibbs, taking the eye, still not fully comprehending what was happening.

Jack smiled. "Good. Now ye can give the eye back to Mister Ragetti. It was just for the sake of the ceremony."

Elizabeth laughed, and Blaxton, seeing her laugh, laughed as well, reaching for her chin in the lack of availability of her hair which was tied, and beyond his reach.

Gibbs gave the eye back to Ragetti, who smiled looking very relieved, and very happy. "Can I have me cookin' book back as well?" He asked, pointing timidly to the book in Jack's hands.

Jack twitched his nose, and gave the book back to Ragetti.

"I don't know what to say," said Gibbs after a moment of silence, staring at Jack and Elizabeth in slowly fading bewilderment.

"Ah!" Exclaimed Jack with a smile. "Fortunately I know." He turned to Ragetti. "More rum." Ragetti nodded, and quickly slip out of the galley, heading for the rum cellar. "An' let us at last eat some breakfast, if we happened to be already so conveniently awoken by the cannon fire," he added, walking over to the table.

Taking advantage of Jack's back being turn to them for a moment, so that he could not see them, Elizabeth quickly leaned toward Gibbs. "Later we have to talk. It's important," she whispered into his ear, smiling enigmatically, and then followed Jack, gracefully taking her place next to him at the table.


	87. Chapter 87

A/N: **Thank you so much for all the amazing reviews!**

_**...& a few announcements:**_

1) It would be great if you could find the time to cast your vote in a poll on my profile! It's not like I have anything planned... It's just... a poll, so don't take it too seriously;) But still, it would be wonderful to know what you think:)

2) Due to the expected length of the A/N in the next/last chapter, please be prepared for 10 minutes of scrolling down just to see the next/last chapter:)

3) The last chapter will be viewable only to those who reviewed at least 80 chapters.

4) Point no.3 was a joke LOL

5) If you'll find the last sentence in this chapter confusing, please refer to chapter 2;)

Disclaimer: I don't own Jack, Elizabeth, etc.

**Chapter 87**

"Is anybody here?" asked Elizabeth in a loud, hesitant voice, stepping into the rum cellar, and holding a candle in front of her eyes.

"Aye, I'm here!" answered Gibbs, emerging from a dark corner.

"Good," Elizabeth smiled cheerfully, and looked behind her to make sure that there was nobody on the stairs. She closed the door, and turned to Gibbs.

Gibbs grabbed a lantern that he had brought with himself, and lifted it next to his face. "I have to say I have my suspicions," he whispered with a smile.

Elizabeth laughed under her breath. "And what do you think of the idea, then, Mister Gibbs? If we understand each other without too many words, as it seems," she said in a conspirational whisper.

"A fanciful idea, to be sure," answered Gibbs with a little chuckle. "An' I'd give half of me share of rum in the afterlife to see his reaction."

Elizabeth giggled. "Oh, such a sacrifice won't be necessary. We shall see it soon enough. Do we have an accord, then?" She asked smilingly, extending her hand.

"Aye!" Gibbs shook her hand with a smile. "Take what ye can." He hesitated for a moment. "An' then give it back."

They laughed quietly. "Pass on, merely pass on," amended Elizabeth with a smile, grabbing two bottles of rum, opening the rum cellar's door, and quickly climbing up the stairs.

* * *

"No, no, no. Don't cry. There's no reason to cry, no reason to be sad," said Jack persuasively, beginning to doubt whether it was a good idea to pick up the baby from the cradle on his own. 

But Blaxton had started to cry, and it just seemed impossible to listen to him crying, and do nothing, so Jack had gathered all his courage, and had taken the baby into his arms, his heart pounding as he tried to remember how exactly he should hold the infant.

Blaxton, however, ignored his heroic efforts, and kept crying, waving his tiny fists, and kicking the air with his little legs.

Jack winced. "Please, don't cry," he said pleadingly, looking at his son with growing desperation. "Why are ye sad, mate?" He asked with genuine concern.

"Oh, Jack, he's not sad!" Exclaimed Elizabeth with a giggle, walking into the cabin, and putting the rum bottles on the table. "He's hungry."

Jack looked up, and sighed with relief. "Glad ye're back, Lizzie," he said smilingly, placing the baby in Elizabeth's arms. "What took ye so long?"

"Long?" Elizabeth blinked disbelievingly. "It couldn't have been more than several minutes," she stated resolutely, disappearing inside the bedroom, and sitting down on the bed.

"That's what I meant, luv," replied Jack with an impish smile, following her. He leaned against the wall, and watched her sliding the dress off her shoulder.

"One would think you've had enough of that particular sight," observed Elizabeth with an amused smile, her eyes fixed on the baby.

Jack raised his eyebrows, a roguish smile flickering across his lips. "It was rather dark, luv. I remember the _feel_ better than the sight."

Elizabeth looked up at him. "Well, I remember both," she answered slyly.

He smirked, and sauntered toward the bed. "That's very interestin'."

"Oh, not all that interesting," retorted Elizabeth with a smirk, glancing over her shoulder at Jack, who slumped down onto the other side of the bed, took off his boots, slid backwards, and sat with his back against the headboard.

Elizabeth turned her head, and arched an eyebrow. Leaning forward, and over the side of the bed, Jack reached for her shoes, and tugged them off her feet. Elizabeth cautiously pulled herself deeper onto the bed, and they both sat with their backs resting against the headboard.

Jack wrapped his arm around her, and Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, leaning her cheek against his shoulder; he leaned his on top of her head. Blaxton followed all the movements that were taking place with curious eyes.

"Lizzie..." Said Jack after a moment of silence, his voice muffled by Elizabeth's hair when he kissed the top of her head. "Do we still have to go to Shipwreck Cove?"

Elizabeth snorted, Blaxton darted his eyes up to her, and giggled. Jack looked at both of them with a hurt expression on his face.

"Jack. We are yet to tell Mr. Gibbs that the _Empress _is his if he would like to have her," explained Elizabeth matter-of-factly, tilting her head to the side to look at her husband.

"We can tell him that right now," said Jack with a small pout. "Then we can throw him over onto my father's ship, an'-"

"I highly doubt my first mate-" Elizabeth stopped in mid-sentence, and knitted her eyebrows. "Jack," she looked up at him again, curiously. "You said that Mister Gibbs was captaining the _Empress _for a while, but..." Jack nervously tapped his fingers on Elizabeth's bare shoulder. "How did you convince Rin Han to give you the ship? He had specific instructions-"

"Luv," Jack smiled as cheerfully as he could. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said in a low voice, hoping that this explanation would do for the time being.

And to his relief Elizabeth smiled back at him, and then just snuggled closer nestling her face into his neck. "I ...ow," she said against his skin, and laughed a little.

Jack sighed inwardly, and planted several kisses along the side of her face, half-afraid, half-amused at the prospect of her reaction when she would find out about throwing her dutiful first mate into the brig.

Smilingly, Elizabeth nuzzled Jack's neck, but soon had to stop, because Blaxton waved his hand at her impatiently, apparently annoyed by not being constantly looked at.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Elizabeth quickly made up for her negligence, and kissed the baby's cheek.

"He's more jealous than-" started Jack with an amused smiled, but stopped abruptly.

Elizabeth quickly shifted her eyes to him, and squinted. "Than?" She asked sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes exaggeratedly.

"Than..." Jack wrinkled his forehead. "Than... before!" He announced happily after a moment of consideration.

Elizabeth sighed. "Right," she said shooting him an amused look before looking back at the baby. "He's just unused to sharing attention," she said, changing her tone to that sweet kind of voice which she always used when talking to Blaxton. She leaned down, and kissed her little son on the forehead. "Those two months since he was born, there was hardly an hour when I wasn't holding him," she said softly, taking the baby's little hand in hers.

Jack pressed his cheek to hers, and smiled thoughtfully. "Ye know, Lizzie, I was thinkin'... I thought... it crossed me mind that it all happened for a reason. That ye could be on land, safe in some quiet place. I don't think we would've been smart enough to do that, leave the sea, an'..."

"I know," said Elizabeth quietly. "But... I feel more safe now," she added shifting in his arms capriciously.

Jack smirked, and buried his face in her hair. "I wouldn't feel safe if I were ye," he whispered into her ear.

Elizabeth grinned, and Blaxton waved his hand at her, and giggled, apparently thinking that he was the reason and the intended receiver of that grin.

"Captain Sparrow," started Elizabeth in mock indignation. "I really think you ought to demonstrate more respect toward a married woman, a mother, a-"

Elizabeth stopped, and they looked at each other questioningly, the knock on the door resounding again.

"If it's _him _again..." muttered Jack, cupping Elizabeth's face in his hands, and kissing her deeply before sliding off the bed.

"Don't worry. We should be in Shipwreck Cove in two days, then we'll spend maybe two days there, and then we'll go to Tortuga," said Elizabeth smilingly.

"Still too many 'thens', if ye get me meanin', luv," said Jack with a small pout, heading for the door.

They had been sailing for five days already with Teague's ship leading the way, although much to Jack's discontentment Teague was constantly either paying the visits to the _Black Pearl_, or inviting _Jackie_, _dove_, and _the wee Lord_ (and Jack was not entirely sure which of those expression annoyed him most, although _dove _could most likely earn Teague an _accidental _bullet if they would have had a misfortune to engage in a battle while sailing to Shipwreck Cove) onto his ship.

And to Jack not only the very idea of those visits was detestable, but also the visits themselves had always caused him to fight his strange inclination to _shoot somethin' _whenever his father had spoken. Teague was either oblivious to the emotions evoked by his person, or – more likely – enjoyably amused by the situation.

During his last visit he had expressed his wish to change the name of his ship, asking Elizabeth for advice as to what the new name should be. Jack had rolled his eyes so much that they had begun to hurt, but eyes rolling had soon proved not to be enough, when after gently dismissing some of Elizabeth's kind proposals Teague announced that he was going to name the ship... _Elizabeth_. Jack had choked on his rum (he had needed lots of rum during those conversations), and in a very _patient _voice had expressed his _supposition _that _his wife _would have _certainly _found the idea _too kind _- the statement delivered with a very poignant look shot at Elizabeth who had sat both embarrassed and amused, sipping on her rum and purposefully staring into the distance.

Jack pushed the irritating thoughts away, and opened the door.

Ragetti smiled sheepishly, and Jack did not even have to ask to know that...

"Captain Teague sent me to ask ye if ye'd join him for dinner on the _Gold Teliza_ tonight," he said in a low voice.

Jack rolled his eyes, and was about to dismiss Ragetti with resigned "aye, aye", when something in the question struck him. "On WHAT?!" He shouted causing Ragetti to jump, and blinked nervously.

"I think, I think that's the new name of Captain Teague's ship," replied Ragetti, thinking quickly.

Jack stared at him venomously. "Tell him we'd _love_ to come, but unfortunately we can't," he said through his clenched teeth, shutting the door in Ragetti's dumbfounded face.

_There_, thought Jack complacently, locking the door. _Should have thought of that earlier._

"Who was it?" Asked Elizabeth walking out of the side cabin, and putting Blaxton into the cradle.

Jack grabbed a bottle from the table, and waved it in front of his face, when Elizabeth turned around to face him. "Rum!" He said with a smile.

Elizabeth slowly walked towards him, took the bottle out of his hand, put it away, and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I guarantee I can get you drunk without a single drop of rum," she whispered smilingly, pressing her lips to his.

"Just make sure I won't pass out," replied Jack in a low voice, returning the kiss with a smile.

Elizabeth giggled. "Oh, you won't," she said in an amused voice, snuggling closer. "You won't..."

* * *

After seven days of a rather peaceful journey, they arrived in Shipwreck Cove, and the two ships were docked next to each other despite Jack's pouted suggestion to dock the _Black Pearl _"as far away as possible, preferably, not dock her at all, but simply sail away." 

Elizabeth ignored his protests, a smile never leaving her face. She gave Blaxton to Jack, and along with Gibbs set out to see the _Empress _and talk to Rin Han (Jack looked down at Blaxton to hide his wincing facial expression). Unfortunately not until it was too late did he realize that the fact that Elizabeth and Gibbs walked away actually meant that he was going to carry Blaxton all the way from the ship to the buildings in the broad daylight and in front of everybody, and the idea scared him for some reason, not to mention that it was rather embarrassing... Captain Jack Sparrow strolling across a pirate town with an infant in his arms... There was just something odd about it.

Blaxton reached out, and pulled down one of Jack's dreadlocks, shaking him out of his reverie. Jack looked at the baby with wide eyes, and after a moment, hesitatingly lifted one of his hands - the other firmly holding the bundle in his arms close to his chest – and wriggled his fingers above the baby indecisively. Blaxton blinked, still not letting go of Jack's dreadlock, his eyes fixed on his father's hand curiously. Jack bit his lip, and wrinkling his forehead, very slowly, with a grimace of fear on his face, carefully lowered his hand, and very cautiously stroked the baby's cheek with one of his fingertips, and then quickly withdrew his hand, and looked at the baby worriedly, not sure he had not actually caused any damage. Blaxton kept looking at him, still curious, and apparently clueless as to the reason for the proud look on Jack's face.

"The lass has a nerve t' leave a kid in yer care," resounded a lightly amused voice next to Jack, who turned his head, squinting.

"Can't see why she shouldn't," snapped Jack in a low voice.

Blaxton tilted his head to the side, and twitched his nose.

Teague took a step forward, and slightly narrowed his eyes. "Can I give ye a piece of warnin'?" He asked with a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips.

Jack snorted, his eyes fixed on Blaxton. "Like the last time?" He asked, shooting Teague an intense glare, and then averting his eyes from him again.

Teague smiled briefly. "It happened eight years ago, Jackie," he said with a trace of amusement in his voice. "An' I meant well. Perhaps the method wasn't most fortunate, but ye've t' admit that I was nonetheless right-"

"Please," cut in Jack, annoyed. "That was rather unforgettable, don't have t' trouble yerself remindin' me," he said in a stern voice.

"Ye started," replied Teague simply, looking away. "Well then. Let me just tell ye now..." he looked at Jack again, who did his best to look as disinterested as possible. "Lose yer mind...," he started slowly, seriously, "lose yer ship... lose yer headin'... lose whatever ye want, whatever life will decide t' take," he said in a low, firm voice. Jack watched him out of the corner of his eye, glancing at him from time to time. "But don't bloody lose that girl," Jack darted his eyes to him without turning his head. "She loves ye more than ye deserve, an' that's somethin' worth dyin' for," Teague smiled faintly. "But _that _ye knew already, I guess."

"Where's the warnin'?" Asked Jack in a seemingly blank voice.

Teague smiled faintly with a glimpse of vivid amusement in his eyes. "That if ye lose 'er I'll personally shoot ye," he saluted nonchalantly, and sauntered away without waiting for an answer.

Jack followed him with his eyes thoughtfully for a moment, then rolled his eyes, and looked at Blaxton. "If that's anywhere close me sense of humor, then Mommy-"

"Jack!"

Both Jack's and Blaxton's eyes widened slightly.

"Jack!" Repeated Elizabeth, approaching quickly.

Jack grimaced, and slowly looked up, not very much surprised at the sight of Elizabeth, followed by Rin Han, and very amused-looking Gibbs.

"Bugger," muttered Jack. Blaxton giggled, and clapped his hands.

* * *

"He was very, _very_," Jack glanced at Elizabeth's first mate who raised his eyebrows expectantly, "unfriendly," said Jack defensively. Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest. Gibbs stifled a chuckle, looking at Blaxton who had been handed to him for a moment. "He didn't want t' give me the ship," added Jack with a small pout, putting on a hurt look. 

"You commandeered my ship!" Exclaimed Elizabeth, ignoring Jack's justifications.

"But I returned it," countered Jack, risking a small smile.

"You threw Rin Han into the brig! My first mate into the brig! How would you feel if I threw Mister Gibbs to the brig?" Continued Elizabeth in an agitated tone of voice.

Gibbs looked up.

Jack smiled. "Be my guest, luv" he said cheerfully, gesturing towards Gibbs, who shook his head with a chuckle.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and bit her lip to held back laughter, unfortunately Rin Han was not as successful as she, and he actually chuckled, causing Jack to stare at him astonishment. He really did not think the young pirate capable of laughing, chuckling, or even smiling. Elizabeth glanced at her first mate, and decided that there was no sense in prolonging the scene. To Jack's bewilderment she started to laugh as well.

"Oh Jack," she smiled, and threw her arms around him, kissing him briefly on the lips. "You didn't even tell me all of that! How come you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't think it was all that terib-" started Jack, but Elizabeth cut him off.

"I'm not talking about that," she shook her head, and looked at him intently, pensively. "I meant the entire search, all the ships. You've searched the entire world for me," she said in a whisper, holding onto the lapels of his coat.

"I did told ye that," said Jack cautiously, smiling faintly.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "I didn't think you meant it _literally_," she said with a shy smile.

"Ah," Jack smirked, wrapping his arms around her. "Well, actually Mister Gibbs did the searching. I just went to Tortuga, an' waited for the news," he said with a trace of nonchalance in his voice.

"Jack!" Elizabeth hit him playfully on the shoulder.

Jack grinned. They looked for a moment at each other, before Jack cleared his throat, and changed the subject, afraid that looking into her eyes for too long in front of everybody might quickly make him forget that there was anybody around. "What are the arrangements?"

"Well, I agreed," said Gibbs with a smile, and a sigh. "Although...," he shook his head. "It's hard to imagine a life away from the _Pearl_," he smiled. "An' ye'd have to find yerself a new first mate, Jack," he added, glancing at Elizabeth, who looked at the ground, with a faint, coy smile hovering over her lips.

"Aye," said Jack with a sigh, and fell silent. After several moments of waiting, Elizabeth looked up, annoyed. "That'd be a problem," said Jack with sincere worry in his voice.

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief. "A problem? What do you mean a problem?"

Jack sighed again. "I just can't think of a good candidate at the moment," he said, squinting, and Elizabeth studied his face, thinking that perhaps he was only joking, and teasing her, but after a while of watching him it was clear that he really did not know who his next first mate might be.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, and snatched herself away from Jack's embrace, shooting him an angry look. Jack widened his eyes at her, confused.

Elizabeth took Blaxton from Gibbs, and turned away from the docks. "We'll go to see what grandpa is doing," she said to Blaxton, purposefully glancing at Jack over her shoulder, before walking away.

Jack blinked, still not really knowing what he had said or done wrong.

Gibbs shook his head with a smile. "Jack," he said, smiling broadly.

"What?" Jack gave him a questioning look.

Gibbs snorted. "Ye just irritated yer first mate. Not a wise thing to do," he observed good-humouredly.

Jack widened his eyes at him. "My-" the comprehension slowly sinking in. "Ye mean she wanted-"

Gibbs nodded smilingly. Jack closed his eyes, and ran his hands across his face. "Bugger," he muttered to himself, and quickly went after Elizabeth.

* * *

"Lizzie," Jack caught Elizabeth in the corridor, and gently turn her around. "I had no idea that I can even dream 'bout havin' the Pirate King as me first mate," he said, pulling her closer. Blaxton shifted his eyes between his parents interestedly. 

Elizabeth bit her lip. "You just don't think I'm good enough to be in charge of the _Black Pearl_ as a first mate," she said quickly, without looking at him, and in a childishly cranky tone of voice.

"What are ye talkin' 'bout, luv? Ye steered her through a storm on yer own already!" Exclaimed Jack, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Blaxton grimaced, as it was exactly the strand that he had tried to reach, and almost, _almost _succeeded.

"Oh yes. With your hands over mine," said Elizabeth quietly, looking up at Jack with a small smile.

Jack shook his head. "No, no. Only for a moment."

"So why-"

"Would ye really like to-," interrupted her Jack, but she interrupted him in turn.

"Yes," she said, pressing her lips to his.

Jack kissed her back, and then tilted his head backwards, and looked at her thoughtfully. "But I'm sure ye know there are some tasks t' be performed, tests t' be done..."

"Tests?" Elizabeth looked at him wide-eyed, and he could not help smiling at her sincerely curious facial expression.

Jack cleared his throat. "Aye," he said, trying to remain serious. "Ye have t' prove that ye're the best person for the position, ye understand," he slightly narrowed his eyes at her. Elizabeth nodded eagerly, not sensing the trap. "Very well," he smiled. "First task." Elizabeth looked at him expectantly. "Kiss the Captain without closing yer eyes."

Elizabeth blinked, and looked at him for a moment, and then rolled her eyes, and groaned. "I though you were serious! You're insufferable!" She exclaimed, hastily walking away, and smiling to herself when he could no longer see her.

"I was serious!" Jack called after her. "Ask Gibbs," he said catching up with her.

Elizabeth stopped, looked at Jack with her eyes narrowed, and laughed. Jack smiled, and pulled her into an embrace, resting his forehead against hers.

"Lizzie, Lizzie," he muttered, closing his eyes.

Blaxton giggled, tapping his parents' chins, that happened to be right above him, with his tiny hands.

"Let's go," said Elizabeth, taking a deep breath, and looking at Blaxton with a smile.

"Where?" Asked Jack, draping his arm around her waist.

Elizabeth glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. "I wanted to ask your father if all the Pirate Lords are now here, or if they could be gathered here within a couple of days if they are away...," she said, still smiling at Blaxton.

Jack wrinkled his forehead. "What for, luv?" He asked confusedly.

Elizabeth bit her lip. "I... I wanted to call for a vote," she said, glancing at Jack with a small smile. "I wanted to see if I could get more votes... If they would choose me now," she said with a shrug.

Jack looked at her, puzzled. "Luv. Ye _are _the Pirate King. Ye don't need any votes. Ye've been already chosen," he sighed. "An' I hate t' tell ye this, but... they are who they are - pirates. There's little chance that they'll vote for anybody else but themselves no matter how wonderful ye are."

"That's alright," said Elizabeth with a small smile. "But I'm just curious," she looked him in the eyes, trying to keep nervousness out of her voice. Luckily, Jack did not seem to be suspicious.

"Well, luv. If ye really want to," he said at last, still not really understanding her reasoning. "It's not like ye can get less votes," he flashed her a smile, and kissed her.

Elizabeth smiled brightly at him, but did not say anything.

* * *

As it turned out, everybody happened to be in Shipwreck Cove, apart from one person, but Teague assured Elizabeth that Sri Sumbhajee Angria could be summoned at once, and asked her to leave the task to him. 

The voting was planned to take place in the evening, and Elizabeth decided to make sure that Jack would not have enough time to dwell on that, so she tried to keep his attention constantly occupied which was not difficult in such a crowded, and noisy place that Shipwreck Cove was at that time of the year.

The remaining part of the day was spent on eating, drinking, and endless discussions, ceaselessly recounted stories, tales, and legends.

Elizabeth was a bit puzzled, and so actually was Jack, when Captain Eduardo Villanueva joined them at the table, and kept throwing in their way some allusions, and strange sentences, blinking, and winking, and prattling about the joys of living forever. Elizabeth was shooting Jack questioning looks, but Jack did not seem to understand Villanueva's behaviour any better.

"I think he thinks that we're immortal," whispered Elizabeth into Jack's ear, leaning towards him, when Villanueva turned away from them for a moment, to exchange a few words with Ammand the Corsair.

"Aye, figured as much, luv," answered Jack in a low voice, kissing the side of her face as he spoke.

"Why does he think that?" Asked Elizabeth, snuggling closer.

"Don't know, Lizzie," Jack draped his arm over her shoulders, and glanced at Blaxton who had just fallen asleep in Elizabeth's arms. "I guess he assumed that if we reached the Fountain we must have drunk from it," he added with a shrug.

Elizabeth smiled, stifling a laugh. "If more people would think that, we'd have very little trouble ruling the seas. Nobody would fight us," she said amusedly, pressing her cheek to Jack's.

"Haven't thought of that, luv," whispered Jack with a chuckle. "Wouldn't be that bad, really."

They smiled at each other.

"More_ r_um!" Bellowed Villanueva, turning back towards them.

Jack and Elizabeth smiled at him in unison, greatly amused by the idea of the Spanish Pirate Lord thinking them immortal.

* * *

In the evening, to Elizabeth's surprise, Sri Sumbhajee Angria indeed arrived, and with no other obstacles standing in the way, the voting could take place as it had been planned. 

The room was even more crowded than the last time, and Elizabeth looked around with mixed feelings. The situation, the room was bringing back so many intense emotions, painful memories, and for a moment she had an impression that it was _that _day again, a day before the great battle, the day before making so many, too many hasty decisions... The day she had begun believing that Jack might have forgiven her. She had known that he had certainly had his own reasons to elect her the Pirate King. But she had also known that he would not have done that if he had really hated her for her actions...

She looked down at Blaxton, whom she held in her arms, and kissed him on the forehead, wondering how could he sleep in such a noisy room. He must have been really exhausted with all the changing surroundings, and so many people around him.

Teague walked into the room, and the conversations ceased, allowing him and Elizabeth to speak a few words to everybody attending the meeting.

Capitaine Chevalle observed in a low voice that the voting was superfluous, Mistress Ching agreed with him, and the similar opinion of Sri Sumbhajee was also voiced.

Captain Villanueva, who since finding the Fountain of Youth and obtaining both love and immortality was constantly in a good mood, broke into the discussion pointing out that the meeting would end sooner if they stopped arguing, and just cast their votes. Elizabeth gave him a grateful smile, and he nodded at her politely.

Gentleman Jocard shrugged his shoulders, and staggering to his feet announced in a bored tone:

"Gentleman Jocard!" Then he sat back in his chair, and crossed his arms over his chest.

Jack, who sat across the table from Elizabeth shook his head with a sigh, giving her I-told-ye-so-luv" smile. Elizabeth flashed him a smile on her own, looking very amused.

Four other Pirate Lords already cast their votes when it suddenly occurred to Jack that Elizabeth's smile was _very _amused, not to say _too _amused.

"Sri Sumbhajee votes for Sri Sumbhajee."

Jack narrowed his eyes, but did not have the time for further musings, because it was already his turn to vote.

"Elizabeth Sparrow," he said smilingly, his eyes fixed on Elizabeth, who grinned at him from across the table.

"Jack Sparrow," she said, looking at him intently, still amused, but there was something else in her face as well, only he could not quite place it.

Somebody in the room snorted, a few people laughed. Elizabeth kept her eyes fixed on Jack. Gibbs cleared his throat, stood up, and in a loud voice cast his vote:

"Jack Sparrow."

The room grew quiet, before the hell broke lose, and people started to shout, argue, and protest.

"An' we thought that the last time was a nonsense," muttered Gentleman Jocard, rolling his eyes.

Jack glanced at Gibbs, still smiling at Elizabeth, who could hardly keep a straight face.

Another moment past and it was only then that Gibbs' vote finally registered in Jack's head, and he stopped smiling, and jumped to his feet.

"What?!" He looked at Gibbs as if he had just commandeered the _Black Pearl_.

Gibbs shrugged his shoulders, and smiled innocently, pointing with his eyes to Elizabeth, who slowly got up, handed Blaxton to Gibbs, and walked over to Jack.

"Lizzie, what the hell have ye done?" Jack stared at her in disbelief.

She grinned, and wrapped his hands around his neck. "I just voted for the best candidate," she repeated his own words, smiling sweetly. "And so did everybody else. Everybody is entitled to his or her own opinion-"

"But why, Lizzie," Jack interrupted her with a truly worried facial expression. "Why did ye do that?" He asked, wincing. "I protest!" He said in a loud voice, hopelessly looking around, but the noise in the room prevented everybody from hearing him.

"Because I wanted to!" Answered Elizabeth, tugging on Jack's coat. "Stop protesting, or else I'll tell your father that you're not going to keep to the Code," she smiled, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed him.

Jack sighed, and looked at her unhappily. "Lizzie..." He drew his hand across her face. "But ye liked being the King," he pouted. "Why did ye do tha-"

Elizabeth put her hand over his mouth. "And now I want to be the Queen," she said resolutely with a happy smile. "Savvy?"

Jack grumbled. Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

"Everythin' alright, dove?" Asked Teague, walking over to them from the other side of the room, his appearance causing the arguments and general commotion to cease.

"No, actually, the King refuses to keep to the Code," she said tugging on Jack's coat even more, and glancing at Teague with a smile.

"Does he?" Teague looked at Jack, smiling faintly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Oh, I see. It was a world-wide conspiracy," he pouted, glancing over Elizabeth's shoulder, and shooting Gibbs a glare, but Gibbs only beamed in response.

"Oh, Jack, stop that. Kings don't pout," she smirked, and brushed some imaginary dust off his coat lapels.

_Kings? _Jack blinked. _King. The Pirate King. _He furrowed his brows trying to ignore a rather happy feeling that the expression evoked.

Teague smiled, and put his hand over Elizabeth's shoulder for a moment, and then walked away before Jack managed to kick him.

"Now I remember!" Exclaimed Jack, when Elizabeth pulled him closer, giving him a scolding look for his attempt.

"What do you remember?" She blinked, puzzled.

"Why I kicked him when I was twelve!"


	88. Chapter 88

**A/N:** _**Welcome! At Story's End...:)**_

This is the very last chapter with a very long and annoying A/N, but since I usually kept my A/Ns very short and unprepossessing, I thought you wouldn't mind if I went wild with the last one lol

I can't believe that this day has come! Hands up who actually believed that this story would ever end? lol It's been 9 months and 3 weeks! It's funny, because it's more or less the time span of the story:)

The most important part of this A/N is the Thank You Note (it's below, you can't see it yet haha). I wanted to thank all my AMAZING readers for their constant, unchanging, wonderful support throughout this story! **Thank you so much! There would be no story without you!**

I would like to thank especially those of you who were not only reading this story, but also reviewing it. Where would I be without all your fantastic reviews? **This story truly & really would not exist without you!** Thank you so much for being such amazing, wonderful readers! Thank you for all the great reviews, for undeservedly beautiful words of praise, for telling me what you thought about the story, for constructive criticism, for commenting on the plot. I loved every review that I received (alright, perhaps with the exception of a couple of anon. flames lol) and I will treasure each of your wonderful reviews forever! I always felt so happy knowing that you were reading this story, and that you cared for it enough to leave reviews which made me not only joyously write this story for almost a year, but also constantly be in a wonderful, happy mood no matter what was happening in my real life. And that really means a lot. It actually means more than a lot. And I will be forever grateful for this:)

HWMB? Fun Facts:)

1) Originally the story was going to have more or less 15 chapters...

2) The only part of the plot planned ahead of time was... Will showing up... at some point. I'm serious.

3) Virtual rum goes to anybody who could tell me what was so special about chapter 38??? Why did it get... 55 reviews?! -faints-

4) The bracelet from the dream in chapter 8 had originally no connection with the bracelet that appeared much later in the story... (It's always useful to put dreams into a story. You never know when you might need them, and if you never use them again... well, then they can just remain... being... dreams! (I'm not sure if this is a very professional writing tip...;)

5) There is a vague line somewhere saying that Jack the Monkey has run away... I put that line there, because one day I suddenly remembered that I... forgot about Barbossa's pet altogether... and had to explain its absence... somehow... (I know, I know, HOW could I forget about the monkey lol)

_**Thank You Note:)**_

I would like to thank ALL of you who reviewed this story at least once! It's just a public addition to all personal review replies:) - a democratic list of all my AMAZING REVIEWERS in the alphabetical order. There is no bold or italics, but I'm sure that everybody who deserves an exceptionally **big hug** for reviewing most of the chapters knows that in her/his own pirate heart:)

_**I would like to thank very, very, very, very, very, very, very much:**_

2mishelle3, 4-is-lovely, AdhesivePrincess, ai-08, Aieska, Aleviel, Alex – obsessive pirate lover, Ally, Ally Kidman, AllyTCBK, AmandaKSparrow, amanda michelle, Ameli, Andra, angelofmusic22, angelXwithXbrownXeyes, Angiezrose, anna, annabelle, anonymous, Arraya, Arinna Black, A Sparrow's Freedom (aka The Caged Sparrow), A Sparrow's Soul, Barbossa's Beloved, bcbdrums, beautiful-mistakez, BellaCissa Black, B-emo-B, Bess-the-Landlord's-Daughter, blacklilac, blackpearl.fantasy, BlackRainWillFall, blugbu, brightlily, brolly501, bussytu34, captain-kat-sparrow, CaptainESavvy, Captain Ichabod Rainey, Captain Kris, Captain Lola Sparrow, Captain Lizzie Sparrow, Captain Uschi, CatGirl R and S Fan, catherine, Celebwen Telcontar, Chloe, cjlovee, CJS, clandestine.masquerade, cloe leo, CocoChanel555, crazibookwormi, Crystalyna du Starrvan, Danielle, DebbieSC, demon barber xx, Deppfreak, DeppnBloom, DesiringPirates, Ditte3, DOC3, Don'tJudgeMe616, Dreamer of Realms, earlymorningdove, Ectofralamazoo, elaine, Elenderai, Elisa, Elizabeth, El loopy, Emma Stargaze, Enessa, englishfreckle, EvilKath, Fabi Caribbean Blue Brazil, febitoria, FireHeart Alchemist, FluffyShrekGirl, freelke, FreeSpiritedOne, gardenlady1, Gater101, GeLiE, gerardlover123, GGLukeLorelai1, Ginabella59, Giver of Roses, Glitterfrost, godisawesome, Go Frankie Rock Out, grape soda queen, gurlwriter, hahaha:), -haleyXsparrow- (aka HoistTheColours), Hambah, Hanna28, hexxx thee purebloods, hArDy-BoYz-GiRl, hlp, homunculiruleall, hotbritt5000, howlongmustiwait, Icelands, iHEARTleyton, ikki, Inkspell12, jackiiexx, Jack.Sparrow.1245, Jack Sparrow Lover 158, Jack Sparrow's my man, JaxLass, Jengarola, Jennifer Lynn Weston, Jo, JumpingJackSparrow!, katana777, Katla, KayleeG, kcpiratey05, KissOfDeathJE, kitanya7, Kitten4, klcxthexpirate, Kontara, Lady of the Mirror, Lakritzwolf, LaVieBoheme87, LazyAssProcrastinator, leela1701, leena, lena, Leanne, lena-hearts-jack, Le.Reflet.de.Soleil, Lexicon, Lily Evanstar, LimeFlamingo, LivelyStevens, Lobsters forever, lostxatx7thxsea, Lucy Westerna, Lurker, LuvlyLena, Maiafay, Mandi, Marriella Bullet, maidenfairhair, marionoz, Marzi, McAlice92, Mclean M.D., MeganSparrow, Meghan, Mei, Meiling, Melissa, Mikitsu Silverquick, Milly, MiMiGallowicious, mipsywoo, Mirabelle456, Misao22, Mishelle, Mishelle23, MissDepp4eva, MoonlitInuko, moovieluvverjs, mrs. Cap'n jack sparrow, Mrs.CaptainJack, mrspatrickdempsey, Mrz. Sparrow Turner, MTVbabe11, natti, Ninja Pirate 25, Nisa93, o.OEvangelineO.o, Oceanana, orpsgod, Perfect Pirate Captain, Persia, Phantom Of The Feudal Era, piratefacehxc, PirateLove, Pirate.Rent-Head.Jedi Knight, piratelover2346, PiratePrincess29, Piratesfanatic, piratespleasure, Powerline, prettycherrystar16, primadonna001, Princetongirl8182, punkparty17, purplediamond7, QueenOfSparrabeth, Queen Tigeress, ra2ch3el4, Rachel452, ribbons undone., robin, RogueOnFire, Rory4, RumQueen, Sakura-mia-chan, Sarwenaletari Elanesse, Sassy Sparrow, sarah, savannah, shalomtatig, Shigures Editor, Silver Butterfly07, Simply Kiwi, siriushermionelover, Sleepy Lotus, socialitegirl, sparrabeth, Sparrow's Love, sparrowsxxswann, Steph H., Stickman-sam, stretchingthelimits (aka ichliebepie), sunkissed47, SuperCatOfDoom, Super-special-awesome Pirate, sweetn'sour, sylvia, tallah, tanith75, Tatablp, tatiana, TavyBeckettFan, teepirategirl, Tempo, Terrie, TheCloudEater, The Girl In The Wrong World, theminority, The-Pirate-Lass, The Pirate's Paw, The Practical Pirate, TheSwannsSparrow, Tikislona, twilight09, Undead Author, uniquechic, unknown person lol, Vee017, Vicster's Jar of Dirt, vidalys, wasaco, Wicked R, x-L e s l i e-x, XxIcexX, xxJE4everxx, Ygraine, Zippie, ZivaJade.

**You are the best:)**

**I will miss you and your wonderful reviews!**

**But I hope to keep seeing you all around VOUN or some other stories in the future...**

**Thank you once again for following this story for 10 months! Thanks to you, it's been an _unforgettable_ journey:)**

And now... onto the last chapter:)

Disclaimer: Disney owns PotC. I own my storyline, a carriage, two doctors (well, three, if we count Philip - whatever his last name was?? - from IHFIY lol), the Inn's owner's wife (who laughed?!), Elizabeth's dresses, a floating wedding ring, the draught flag (anybody remembers that? haha), Will's drawing of a veranda, bottled Aqua de Vida, the bracelet, Maldream residents (although I could be persuaded to sell some of them...), Scarlett's grandmother, Rin Han, the 'singing' parrot, and... Blaxton:)

**Chapter 88**

"...one hundred and fifty nine, one hundred and sixty..."

The sun shone through the thin curtains that fluttered in the mild wind coming from the outside through a half-open window. The window overlooked the docks, the calm sea, and the ships anchored at Shipwreck Island, the _Black Pearl _among them.

"...one hundred and sixty seven, one hundred and sixty eight..."

Elizabeth woke up, but did not want to open her eyes, feeling perfectly content with the sunlight on her face, Jack's chest pressed to her back, his arm brushing against hers, while he was...

"...one hundred and seventy three, one hundred and seventy four," muttered Jack under his breath.

_What is he doing?!_ Elizabeth opened one eye, but unfortunately lying on her side and facing the window she could not see much.

"... one hundred and eighty eight, one hundred and eighty nine," continued Jack what seemed to be the most monotonous task, his voice however held a strange sense of fascination.

Elizabeth opened her other eye as well, and blinked, trying to figure out what Jack was doing, what was he counting?!

"...one hundred and ninety one, one hundred and ninety two..."

She kept very still, trying to keep her breathing steady. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Jack's elbow resting on her arm, and she could also feel his breath on the back of her head when he spoke...

"...one hundred and ninety nine, two hundred..."

Elizabeth thought that perhaps he would stop counting at that point, but number two hundred did not seem to be his goal. He continued, and she was growing more and more curious as to what was going on, when she suddenly felt Jack's fingertips on her hair. He was not stroking her hair, but she could feel his touch nonetheless; very light, almost imperceptible, as if, as if...

"...two hundred and five, two hundred and six..."

Biting her lip, she considered just flipping over onto her back, and coming face to face with him. But he was doing something with her hair, and an abrupt movement like that might ruin... whatever he was doing.

"...two hundred and thirteen, two hundred and-"

"Jack?" Elizabeth risked calling him in a soft, hesitant voice. He did not answer. "Jack?" she repeated, slightly puzzled.

"Shhh!..."

To Elizabeth's bafflement he hushed her, apparently not very happy about the interruption.

"Jack. What are you doing?" asked Elizabeth, beginning to roll over onto her back.

"No!" Jack stopped her in mid-action, placing his hand on her shoulder. "Don't move, luv."

"Jack?"

"Two hundred and fourteen..."

"Jack!" she exclaimed, not knowing what to think, half-amused, half-annoyed.

"...two hundred and fifteen..."

"Jack!?!"

"...two hundred and sixteen..."

"Jack!?!?!"

"...two hundred and seventeen..."

Elizabeth lost her patience, and in one swift movement rolled onto her back. Jack's eyes widened, and he froze above her with his hands lifted in the air, and a look of dismay on his face. "Lizzie," he said in a very unhappy voice.

"What were you doing?" asked Elizabeth looking up at him curiously.

Jack knitted his eyebrows. "Ye ruined me count, luv," he said with pout.

Elizabeth splayed her open palms on his bare chest, and slid them upwards. "What have you been counting?" She asked closing her hands over his shoulders, and pulling him down onto her.

Jack smiled at her impishly, and brushed his lips against hers. "Yer hair," he whispered, playfully parting her lips with his.

"What?" asked Elizabeth with a bright smile, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

He kissed her, and then drew back, sliding his hand into her hair, and sifting her golden brown strands through his fingers. "I was counting yer hair, 'Lizbeth," he repeated, propping his head on his elbow, and looking down at her with a smile.

Elizabeth threw back her head, and giggled, digging her head into the soft pillow. "Jack. You're absolutely-"

He cut her off with a kiss, his dreadlocks brushing over her collarbones, cold trinkets sending shivers up her spine every time they touched against her skin. They kissed until there was no air to breathe, and they had to pull away.

Jack rolled over onto his side, and pulled Elizabeth close to him, locking his arms around her. She snuggled her face into his chest, and wrapped her leg around his.

"Have I told ye already that ye're beautiful, luv?" asked Jack burying his face in her hair.

"Yes," answered Elizabeth, smiling into his chest.

"And brave?" He brushed her hair off her shoulder, and stroked her arm with the back of his hand.

"Yes," replied Elizabeth promptly.

"And... unforgettable?"

Elizabeth giggled. "Aye," she said in a muffled voice, kissing his chest.

"And that I love you?"

She looked up at him, and cupped his face in her hands, smiling brightly. "Aye. You did mention that a few hours ago."

Jack widened his eyes at her in disbelief. "A few hours ago? That's unforgivably long time ago, luv" he smiled, and kissed her shoulder dragging his lips across her collarbones, and then lower.

"I think so too," agreed Elizabeth in a barely audible whisper, smiling, her eyelids falling heavily over her eyes. "Do continue," she added with a hint of amusement in her voice, trying to catch her breath. "Everywhere..."

He smiled against her breast. "Your wish is my command Your Maj- Wait!" He stopped abruptly, drew back, and looked at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes, and a trace of impishness in his smile.

Elizabeth reluctantly opened her eyes. "What?" She asked with a half-hearted frown, trying to pull him closer again, but he shook his head.

"No, no, no," Jack wiggled his finger at her, his lips stretching into a roguish smile. "Remember, luv? I'm the King," he said, pointing to himself with a complacent smile.

Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, and gave him a questioning look.

Jack threw himself onto his back, and interlaced his fingers behind his head. "Do continue, darlin'," he said in a purposefully husky, nonchalant voice, closing his eyes. Elizabeth quickly pulled herself up to a sitting position, and sat upright in bed, glaring at Jack as much as it was possible with her eyes laughing and a smile tugging on her lips. Jack shifted, and grimaced with pretended impatience. "Everywhere," he added with a smile.

Stifling a giggle Elizabeth leaned over him, kissed him on the lips, and then trailed soft kisses all over his chest, tracing all the bullet holes, scars, and tattoos with her lips.

"I like being the King," said Jack in a drowsy voice, "I think."

"You _think_?" exclaimed Elizabeth with mock-indignation.

"Aye, I-" Jack's eyes flew wide open, "I'm... _sure_," he whispered breathlessly.

* * *

After four days spent in Shipwreck Cove (which, according to Jack, was five days too many), the _Black Pearl _and the _Empress_ left the pirate town behind, and headed for Tortuga where the belated wedding party was going to take place (even though Teague had proposed to throw the party at the Cove, but Elizabeth had not even had to look at Jack to imagine the expression in his eyes at that proposal...). 

Jack stood at the helm smiling happily at the retreating figure of the _Gold Teliza _(he had not actually believed that Teague would have really changed the name of his ship, but to his utter dismay, one morning when he had gone to the docks he had come across a bunch of pirates indeed putting on the new lettering).

A happy smile, however, disappeared from his face when he saw his father's ship's sails being unfurled.

"How many days will it take us to sail to Tortuga?" asked Elizabeth appearing on Jack's side, and ducking under his arm to stand between him and the helm.

"Lizzie, ye did not invite him, did ye?" asked Jack ignoring her question (although he did not fail to wrap his arm around her waist, and pull her closer against him), his eyes fixed on the _Gold Teliza_.

Elizabeth blinked, and turned around, following Jack's gaze. "Well," she said, leaning against his chest. "I did mention-" Jack groaned, "out of politeness," she added quickly with a chuckle. "I had to, we had to!"

"No, we did not!" protested Jack propping his chin on her shoulder.

Elizabeth turned her head, and kissed the side of his nose. "I will be holding your hand throughout the party, I promise," she said with a sweet smile.

Jack twitched his nose, and glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "That might be acceptable. But..."

"But what?" asked Elizabeth, brushing her lips against his cheek.

"But what will ye be looking at, luv?" inquired Jack in a mildly interested tone of voice, his hand playing with the rim of her shirt.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, putting a thoughtful expression on her face. "I don't know...," she snuggled closer against him. "You?" she offered after a longer pause, looking at him expectantly.

Jack reduced his inward amused grin to an outward benevolent smile. "Aye. Good answer. And I'd be hoping for ye to keep to yer word, queeny-luv."

Elizabeth smiled, and pressed her lips to his ear. "But you do know that it has to work both ways," she whispered alluringly.

Jack squinted into the distance. "Let's make it a bet, then," he said shifting his eyes to her. She bit her lip, and raised her eyebrows. "Whoever looks away _first_..." he smiled roguishly, leaned toward her, and whispered the rest of the sentence into her ear. Elizabeth laughed.

* * *

The interiors of the _Feisty Fairy_, the fanciest tavern in Tortuga, were changed and decorated in virtually no time. Within a day the place was turned into the most beautiful, enchanting room full of flowers and colorful decorations. White and blue tablecloths were spread over the tables, and silver tableware, which seemed to consist of strangely different pieces, glittered in the dim light of lanterns and candles. 

The neatness of the place, however, was ruined and forgotten as soon as all the guests, friends, and strangers started coming to the _Feisty Fairy_, and the celebrations officially began.

Just like she promised, Elizabeth laced her hand through Jack's arms, and no matter what was happening around, and whoever was speaking to her, she kept her eyes fixed on Jack, and so did he, and soon people gave up on engaging in any conversations with them, leaving them to themselves (which was bound to happen anyway, because after several minutes of greetings, joyful hollering, and happy matrimony wishes, as well as several rounds of rum and other vile drinks, nobody seemed to neither care nor remember what was exactly the reason for the celebration, concentrating on pure enjoyment of the moment.

"I hope that at least now you do regret kicking your father," said Elizabeth reaching for her mug of rum, which was not easy considering that she had only one hand at her disposal, and could not avert her eyes from Jack, and the mug sat somewhere on the table where she could not really see it.

Jack grimaced, trying to locate his own rum with his left hand. "I saw him then for the very first time in my life. I walked into the kitchen, and saw a stranger kissing me mum. What was I supposed to do? What would you do?" Jack blindly tapped his hand on the table, until he finally touched upon his mug.

"I would ask him who he was," answered Elizabeth closing her hand around her rum.

"I did ask him who he was," said Jack defensively, cautiously lifting his drink. "After I kicked him."

With a smile, Elizabeth slowly brought her mug to her lips. "But you have to admit that it was rather nice of him to offer taking care of Blaxton tonight."

Jack twitched his nose. "Aye," he muttered reluctantly. "Good thing the wee one is immortal, or else he would certainly die from boredom listening to ol' cap'n Teague playin' his guitar."

Elizabeth giggled. "I actually would like to hear him play," she said teasingly, putting away her rum, her eyes locked with Jack's.

Jack narrowed his eyes. "I don't think-"

A pair swirling around the room in a rather chaotic dance, accidentally bumped into the table, which in turn bumped into Jack, who dropped his mug. Without thinking, he followed the lost rum with his eyes.

"I won! I won!" exclaimed Elizabeth, clapping her hands. Jack darted his startled gaze to her. "You looked away!" she said happily.

Jack groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Bloody rum," he muttered with a pout. "Always gets me in trouble. Especially when it's gone," he added with a sigh.

* * *

Elizabeth paced around the cabin, her lustrous taffeta dress fanning around her. She kept biting her lip, and giggling under her breath. 

"Oh," she whispered at last impatiently, and headed for the door.

Quickly walking through the corridor, and stopped in front of the galley's door, cautiously pressing her ear to the wooden surface. She heard a quiet, jingling noise, and some mutterings, the only recognizable word that she could differentiate being "bugger". Putting her hand over her mouth in order to stifle a chuckle, she noiselessly pushed the door open, and crept across the dining cabin to the cooking quarters.

The door stood ajar, so she soundlessly leaped to the door frame, and peered inside.

Jack stood in the middle of the cabin, his shirt sleeves rolled up, his dreadlocks sprinkled with flour, his hands full of amorphous dough which seemed glued to his palms, despite his efforts to shape something out of disobedient ingredients.

Elizabeth watched him for a moment before clearing her throat, and knocking loudly on the door. Jack looked up.

"I came to see how is my wedding cake doing?" Elizabeth walked in with a smile.

"It's not doing anything," muttered Jack, glaring at the dough.

Elizabeth giggled, and walked over to him. "And how is my husband doing?" She asked, blowing the flour off Jack's dreadlocks.

Jack shot her a very sad look. She smiled, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "Alright. I will help you," she said with sigh.

"I don't think ye cook any better, luv," said Jack sceptically.

Elizabeth widened her eyes at him. "Oh, and here is where you are very, very wrong," she said smiling inwardly at the memory of all the cooking lessons which she had had with Mrs. Roggson and Giselle in Maldream.

"Am I?" asked Jack, amused, still sceptical about the idea.

"Yes, you are," repeated Elizabeth in a firm voice, rolling up her sleeves.

* * *

A small table was set on the main deck under the dark night Caribbean sky. The _Black Pearl _rocked on the calm sea, among millions of stars reflected in the black water around the ship, and it seemed as if the ocean was made out of infinite strings of black pearls and white diamonds interlaced together, glimmering in the darkness. 

Jack and Elizabeth sat at the table across from each other, eating their wedding cake, which - Jack had to admit it - indeed proved that Elizabeth had picked up certain culinary skills. They ate and talked, recounting once again everything that had happened, adding the previously untold details, reminding each other about small events, laughing at the past, desanctifying the pain, moving on...

* * *

The _Black Pearl _left Tortuga seven days later, parting ways, at least for a few weeks, with the _Empress_ and the _Gold Teliza_. 

Jack stood at the helm watching the sunrise, and the bright horizon stretching before him.

"Do we have a heading?" asked Elizabeth, lacing her arm through his, and tucking a few strands of her hair behind her ear, curling up her toes, feeling the soothing warmth of the wooden deck under her bare feet, her nightgown fluttering lightly in the mild wind.

Jack looked at her, and smiled, wrapping his arm around her, and pulling her close. "I didn't want to wake you, Lizzie," he said, pressing his lips to the side of her face, and moving her to stand in front of him at the helm.

Elizabeth stepped up to stand on his boots, and rested the back of her head against his shoulder.

"Aye," said Jack with a smile, nestling his face in her neck. "We do have a heading."

"Without the compass?" asked Elizabeth, smiling sadly at the memory of Jack telling her how he had accidentally, and unfortunately literally, broke the compass.

"Without?" Jack brushed his lips against her neck. "I still have it," he said with a roguish smile.

Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, and looked at him questioningly. "How come?" she asked, slowly drawing her hand across his face.

"It's right here," whispered Jack into her ear, turning her around, and placing his hand over her heart.

Elizabeth smiled, and kissed him. "Mine is here," she said splaying her open palm over his heart.

"And where a double heading can lead us, I wonder?" whispered Jack, cupping her face in his hands, and pressing his lips to hers.

"Into the horizon," said Elizabeth quietly, looking into his eyes with a smile in her eyes, on her lips; in her.

Jack smiled, locking his eyes with hers, the lustrous darkness of his eyes reflecting the sunlit sea and her own eyes boring into his. He brushed his lips against hers, and in a low, sable, light-conjuring voice corrected:

"Into _our_ horizon."

**The End**


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